Masen Manor
by drotuno
Summary: Masen Manor, home to a prestigious boarding school, Masen Academy. An immortal hiding from the world has his faith tested by a hundred-year-old fortune and a broken, silent girl. AU…E/B…Slightly OOC…Rated M
1. Chapter 1

**A/N… HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! So...I'm back with something a little different. ;) This will probably be the longest A/N for now, so please just bear with me. Okay? **

**This is supernatural/AU/romance/hurt and comfort/mystery. O_o I know…that's a big label, but it's all those things, I suppose. When asked, I couldn't remember or narrow down where this plot bunny came from, but it came with a force I couldn't ignore. Some things are OOC, some things will be pretty canon, and some are completely out of my head. You'll get my drift with just the first chapter.**

**I kept this fic pretty quiet, and I have to thank Jenny and my pre-readers for that, because I wasn't quite sure this would work. Parts of it are so different that I worried it wouldn't mesh out. That, and the bunny came at me full force right at the end of **_**Fire & Ice**_**, which was inconvenient and unexpected**_**. **_**And I know I've teased everyone on FB and Twitter until they were about to riot, but it wasn't until I reached a certain point that I finally felt comfortable to let it out into the world. **

**FYI: The U.S. does have castles, though they are few and far between – the biggest and most popular being The Biltmore in Ashville, NC – but this one is completely fictional. The picture I use in the banners are of an abandoned castle in Belgium. **

**Summary:** **Masen Manor, home to a prestigious boarding school, Masen Academy. An immortal hiding from the world has his faith tested by a hundred-year-old fortune and a broken, silent girl. AU…E/B…Slightly OOC…Rated M**

**Okay…I'll let you get started, but see me at the bottom for a little info about posting…**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 1**

**August 2001**

**EDWARD**

My steps were silent through the main entrance of Masen Manor. I shook my head as the name hit me full force.

Masen. I hadn't been a Masen in a very long time.

I passed through the main hall, the trophy room, and the dining hall. I barely gave a glance at the large portrait that hung over the tables. It was such a farce, a pile of lies all wrapped up in an oil painting of a man I could barely stand when he was alive, but he was merely a symbol. He represented the founder of Masen Academy, a perfect historical figure made to quiet the questions.

He was the face that held steadfast over the years while we changed roles like actors in a play. The truth was, my father would never have given up his own personal living space to educate young minds. No, he'd been way too selfish for such an act, which made using him as a symbol all the more satisfying in the long run. A part of me hoped he saw it, that he watched this castle as hundreds of students had moved on from here to Ivy League schools, prosperous careers, and fulfilling lives. It had been eighty years since I'd reopened the doors of my childhood home as a boarding school. I hoped he saw each one of them…and hated it. Nothing I'd ever done had been good enough before; I could almost be willing to bet that anything I did now would be met with just as much, if not more, vitriol.

I finally exited out through the dorms and into the east wing through the door that was hidden and always locked. The destruction surrounded me, grounded me, and kept me focused, despite the many, many times the offer to clean it up and repair it had come my way. I sat down in the window that overlooked the back of the castle.

Night had fallen. It had been a bright summer day, so there was no escape from the indoors, but I didn't need to leave. It was probably best I didn't, anyway. Not today. Today, it was best I stay locked away.

Two figures appeared on the grounds below my window. They couldn't be more opposite if they tried. One was tall and muscular, with russet skin, a heavy heartbeat, and almost black eyes, and he looked no more than twenty-five, but he was at least twice that. The other was pale, lithe, and scarred on almost every inch of his impervious skin**. **His heart was as silent as my own andhad been since the Civil War.

_Damn, Edward…I can feel your self-hate from here. You might want to tone that down a little, brother. I've still got two more teachers to move in._ Jasper's thoughts were as clear as if he were standing in the room with me, speaking aloud. His blond hair glinted in the moonlight as he smirked up at me.

I chuckled, saying, "My apologies, Jasper, for the moving in part, at least, but it was time to shift things around. You know this."

He grinned, nodding, and looked around. _You changed the cleaning and cooking staff last year, so it only makes sense to shift some teachers around for this year. Esme can pull off another few years, though._

"Like I could pull Esme away," I said wryly, smirking down at them.

"True," both men said with a laugh at the same time.

The darker of the men folded his arms across his chest. "You gonna ask or not?"

"No," I murmured to myself, though I knew his hearing was just as sensitive as ours. "I don't need to know, Jacob."

"Yes, you do," he said with a laugh. He smiled up at me, and I shook my head at how nothing got him down – not his lot in life, not his job...not even his affliction could tear him down. "I saw my mother. She had a message for you, considering what today is, and I think you should hear it."

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes and started to get up from the window.

_Edward, wait, _he thought to me. When I looked down at him, he stayed with thoughts instead of speaking out loud. _She said to tell you that she's been watching the __signs 'cause_ _she knows how badly you want it to be different, but it won't be. She said this year will change __everything and__ that my __great-grandmother__ was right in what she showed you. Every prediction has come true, man. You know she's right. Even the little shit has come true._

I gripped my hair, shaking my head. "God, if that's the case, then…" I sighed, my voice trailing off as I looked down at them. "Guess we'll see, won't we?" I asked him, not believing a word of it, not because I didn't want to, but because if it were true, then my life was about to be turned completely upside down.

Standing up, I took in Jacob's grin. He was taunting me in his head, but I ignored him. He finally stepped away from the castle, making his way toward the wilder part of the property. With a shiver over his entire frame and a long, low growl, his human form was gone, and in its place was a large red wolf. He was now officially on duty and left the yard to start his patrol, which would continue until morning, of the entire grounds.

I sat down on the sofa in the corner, glaring down at the floor. My hands curled into claws at the mention of Jacob's great-grandmother. I wasn't sure if I wanted to strangle the old gypsy woman or praise her. Giselle had been the bane of my existence for a hundred years. Had it not been for her, I wouldn't have recognized the man currently making his way upstairs. Though, if not for her, I wouldn't have clung to false hope for this many years. The old woman represented too much – the demise of my humanity, the hope for something I didn't deserve, and the constant wish that she was wrong, though she never was. And she hadn't left my mind since I'd realized what today was.

Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I gazed up at Carlisle, who made more noise than necessary. He was being polite, giving me a chance to run, but I didn't.

"Son, I know you're feeling…off, but you need to know," he said, leaning in the doorway. "Esme thinks she found her."

I shook my head in denial. "No," I barely breathed aloud.

"She's pretty damn sure, Edward," he stated cautiously. "She just called. The girl is exactly as Giselle described."

"Then she shouldn't come, Carlisle," I growled, standing up. "Keep her away from here. This…I can't…There's no… My life, this life, will ruin her! No one deserves this."

Carlisle smiled sadly. "It's too late, son. She's accepted. Esme told me to tell you that it was a must that she come here."

"Why?!"

"Edward, the girl…" He sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. "First of all, the girl is brilliant. She'll do very well here. Second, she's…" He grimaced, shaking his head. "Son, she's _damaged_. There wasn't a chance in hell Esme wasn't going to bring her here, and it's quite possible that she's not the one."

"Well, I can damn well hope, right?" I sneered, hating myself for hoping and hating Giselle even more for ever planting this seed in my head.

He shook his head. "I understand your…trepidation, Edward, but perhaps this is a good thing?" he asked, making sure I looked him in the eye. "After all, Giselle wasn't wrong about me, right?"

Snorting, I rolled my eyes at him, which made him smirk. "Do you think we gave her too much credit?" I asked him, honestly wanting to know.

He chuckled softly. "I don't know, son. I've learned in my very long life not to discredit things that are out of my control, things that aren't normal. I remember a time when gypsies were a pariah, when reading tea leaves and looking through crystal balls were considered witchcraft, an offense that would get them killed. Had we not located her again, gotten her to read your future again, even ten years after your change, then I'd say no, but sometimes, faith is all one has to keep them going in this life. She was right about Esme…and Jacob.

"I know she's weighing heavily on your mind today, but I honestly can't say I'm sorry she brought me my son, my oldest friend," he stated, smiling at me. "Try to see the good things, Edward. Try to see what this night a hundred years ago gave you, instead of what it took away. And prepare yourself, because Esme will be bringing the girl with her for the start of the new school year. If the girl turns out not be your mate, she will still need our help."

My brow furrowed as he quickly closed him mind to me. I caught a glimpse of a photograph, a cut-off conversation with Esme, his mate, and I saw sad, deep brown eyes.

"What happened to her?" I asked in a whisper.

"No one's sure," he replied firmly, stepping away from me. "All Esme knows is that she needs to be removed from her current situation."

"Okay," I breathed back, not understanding his cryptic answers. Just before he reached the stairs, I called him back. "Hey, Carlisle, what's the girl's name?"

"Isabella Swan," he said softly, his eyes locking onto mine. He raised an eyebrow at me at just what that meant. "She prefers to be called _Bella_."

"Oh, Christ," I breathed, my mouth hanging open.

_Beautiful swan._

I sat back down, shaking my head at what he'd told me. He'd always had a way of putting things that made me rethink my life, but despite the blurry human memory, I could remember my last night with almost perfect clarity. And this new student's name was just a little too close for comfort.

**~oOo~**

**August 1901**

The crash and the raised voices pulled me from the book I was currently lost in, making me sigh deeply. I shouldn't have come home from Harvard for the summer. I should've gone with my friends. I could imagine that they were already in Europe, already drunk on life and freedom. The coming year was supposed to be my last year, and I hoped to graduate and take up a teaching position somewhere in Boston, maybe even New Hampshire.

I wouldn't have come home, except that my mother had begged me. Letter after letter, she pleaded with me to visit my last free summer. I was pretty sure she knew that I wouldn't be back. Instead of touring Europe, I was stuck in the east wing of my parents' manor, trying my damnedest to ignore the drunken, belligerent sounds of my father.

Sober, he was cold, distant, and uncaring. When drunk, though, he became something altogether different. He was a monster, especially toward my mother. I was used to stepping between them, used to deflecting all that he had to spew, simply to give her a respite. I tried not to think of what she went through when I wasn't home.

Slamming my book down on my nightstand, I stood up from my bed. Maybe I could convince my father to take it outside, or at the very least, hole himself up in his study.

I made my way through the winding corridors toward the sounds that seemed to be getting louder. I passed by one of the servants, who gave me a sad smile.

"Never fear, Collette," I said with a chuckle, leaning in when the old woman kissed my cheek.

"I'm glad you're home, Master Edward. She needs you," she whispered, her cheeks blushing at the impropriety of that statement, but I'd known the woman my whole life.

She'd taught me to read, bathed me, fed me, all the things the two people downstairs should've done, but they hadn't. She cupped my face, looking me over.

"You've grown up to be a very handsome, sweet boy. You look just like your mother," she said with a smile, and I noted a small tear in her eye. "Tell me you're still treating the young women like a gentleman."

Grinning, I blushed, shaking my head. "I'm too busy, Collette. School has me working too much to worry about girls," I told her, though I'd had my eye on a friend's sister for a few weeks.

She tsked at me, patting my face. "Nevertheless," she huffed, kissing my cheek again. "Just make sure you aren't like that scoundrel in town."

Laughing, I nodded. James was a bit of a womanizer, but it was all in fun, and most of the girls he spoke to weren't exactly proper themselves.

"Yes, ma'am," I simply conceded, but both of us froze when the sound of shattering glass met our ears from the library. I locked gazes with her for a moment, sighing deeply. "I'd better…"

"Yes, you probably should." She pointed toward the kitchen. "You come see me. I've made that lemon cake you like so much."

I smiled her way, but continued on my path through the house. When I stepped into the library, I wanted to roll my eyes at the scene before me. My father was smiling down at my mother as she cleaned up broken glass. He chugged back a mouthful of an amber-colored liquid, and I couldn't begin to imagine just how many he'd had.

"Father, perhaps you should—" I started, but he rounded on me with fire in eyes that matched my own.

"Perhaps you should mind your own business, Edward," he snapped, his lip curling in hatred. "Shouldn't you be in town with that worthless friend of yours? Or how 'bout wasting away upstairs with your nose in a book? Or…I know! Playing the piano?"

I shook my head. My father hated that I wasn't following in his footsteps to become a lawyer. He hated even more that I wanted to teach music. Ignoring his abusive statements, I walked to my mother, kneeling down next to her.

"Mother, stop," I begged her softly. "Collette will get it. You'll cut yourself. Why don't you go upstairs and draw a bath?"

Her eyes wide, she nodded at me.

I helped her stand up, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in order to guide her out of the library. But my father wasn't having it.

"She'll clean up this mess first," he snarled, reaching for her.

"No." I shook my head at him. "No, she won't. You can do it, or wait for Collette, but she won't be doing it, Father."

His temper was on a razor's edge, but in his inebriated state, he was slow and clumsy. He swung at me and reached for my mother, but I was able to dodge him and then shove him. Hard. He fell to his backside, but his head bumped the edge of the fireplace, knocking him out cold.

I froze in shock and fear, but my mother grabbed at my shirt.

"Go, my sweet boy. Go into town, stay at the inn if you must, but give him time to sleep it off," she urged me, pushing me toward the door. "Go!"

"Mother, I…"

She shook her head. "I'll be fine, son. He'll wake up not remembering a thing. Collette will help me move him."

She shoved me a few more times, and I finally made my way upstairs to dress. The whole time, my thoughts were consumed on how I shouldn't have come home. I should've stayed in Boston, or maybe traveled with my friends, but home had been a mistake.

Luckily, Colin hadn't put away the horses and the carriage, and I dove inside, telling him to drop me off in town. The crack of the whip echoed through the courtyard before we took off. It wasn't a long journey, so when he pulled to a stop outside the small pub, my heart still hadn't had a chance to slow down.

Colin opened the door, asking, "Master Edward, should I wait?"

I shook my head. "No, but perhaps you should get that new doctor in town…have him take a look at my father."

"He's a strange man, sir," he countered, but nodded in acquiescence when I raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, sir. I'll go straight there."

I actually liked the new doctor. Yes, he was strange, but Dr. Carlisle Cullen had helped my mother through a nasty flu when I was home for the Christmas holiday. He was pale, a bit young, but calm, intelligent, and rather wise for his young years. He couldn't be more than five years older than me, and he'd only been in Hunter's Lake for less than a year. Apparently he'd liked the Adirondacks when he visited as a young man, so he'd made it his mission to move here after medical school. He'd never said, but if I had to guess, I'd say his accent made him European…but from where, I couldn't pinpoint.

The pub was loud, filled with all walks of life, but it was the overfilled table in the back to which I was heading. James was surrounded by girls with dark hair and dark eyes, their skin a pretty shade of brown. Gypsies. They welcomed me to the table, and the drinking began in earnest.

I'd traded a glass for a bottle by the time James had disappeared with one of the girls. I wanted to say her name was Maria, but I wasn't sure. However, the one next to me seemed shy, even as she offered me her hand.

"Come, I'll read your future," she told me. "My name's Giselle."

I followed her without question. She was beautiful, exotic, and kind. Her room was above the pub, and when I walked in, my eyes had to adjust to the darkness. Only a few small candles were lit, giving the place an eerie glow. Giselle smiled my way, and right then, I could see that she was older than me, worn down in a way that one becomes when life isn't so kind. She'd been used, abused, and most likely had had her heart broken more than once.

"Sit, please," she commanded gently, and I obeyed, setting my bottle of whiskey on the table in front of me. She sat down slowly in the chair across from mine, her eyes raking over me in a way that made me squirm. "Relax, Edward. I see so much in you," she stated cryptically. "So many colors around you. I want to see what will become of you."

I didn't believe in what she practiced, so I scoffed at her words.

"I'm rarely wrong," she told me, wearing a smile that told me that not many believed in her ways. "Let's see," she sighed, pulling a crystal ball closer to her.

She studied not only the clear ball in front of her, but also pulled out a stack of large, colorful cards, laying them out in a certain way. I continued to take long draws from my bottle, growing closer and closer to the point of not caring about anything, which had been my intention to begin with: I wanted to forget.

Her eyes teared up, and she pushed everything out of the way in order to stop my next drink. "Stop," she ordered, taking the bottle from me. "I see too much in you, Edward. Stop. Listen to me. I see…everything coming your way. Everything. There's death, both at home and…and…you."

My brow furrowed, but that got my attention. "How?"

"I can't see, but what's strange is…your death does not stop your heart. You find your soulmate."

I snorted a laugh. "Well, who is she? And when?"

"That's what's so strange. I see your death...here," she stated, pointing to a card. "But a hundred years from now, I see…your heart is complete. You meet your soulmate. She comes to you. She's…silent and young and beautiful," she whispered, frowning at that. "She'll be yours and only yours."

Shaking my head, I started to stand up. The woman wasn't making sense. "How could I die and then find this perfect girl?"

"I don't know." She stopped me from standing. "You must be careful, Edward. Death is all around you." She pulled the crystal ball closer. "I see you trade one father for another – a better one. You become someone else." She looked up at me. "I also see a _beautiful swan_. It saves you from the darkness and shows you the light. It's everywhere around you. Its wings wrap around you like an angel. She saves your soul. It's this _beautiful swan_ that you need to wait for."

She pulled me closer. "There are rumors, you know. Demons walking the earth. They kill. They drain. They drink the blood of humans in order to live. They live forever. Edward, promise me you'll be careful."

"Okay, I promise," I slurred, finally standing and swaying on my feet.

"I mean it," she told me, gripping my lapel. "Don't let the darkness take you!"

Her warning left me feeling strange and filled with anxiety. I wasn't sure if it was the whiskey, or perhaps it was the odd woman. I took a deep breath, letting it out before making my way to her door. I decided the best way to sober up was to walk home, despite the late hour. My mother had told me to stay away, but I was feeling something akin to nerves when the thought of her entered my mind. Something felt wrong, though I wanted to blame the gypsy woman for trying to frighten me.

Giselle grabbed me once more before I opened her door. "I'll see you again, though you'll be…different."

Shaking my head, I left her quickly, trying to push her strange behavior out of my mind. I stepped out into the warm evening, taking another deep breath in order to clear my head. I made my way out of town toward Masen Manor. I needed to check on my mother, I wanted to sleep in my own bed, and I was hungry. Collette's offer of cake was sounding pretty good.

Once out of the small town of Hunter's Lake, the lighting became almost nonexistent. The woods were dark and quiet. Too quiet. There wasn't the sound of owls on the hunt or nocturnal animals foraging for food, or even the occasional wolf that howled in the night. There was simply…nothing.

I took the most traveled road toward my home, knowing I'd most likely be a few hours from my arrival. I was hoping that by that time, my father would have slept off his alcohol, or at least passed out completely. My hopes were to head back to Boston early. I needed to get away from Edward Masen Sr.

As I walked, my head became clearer, and Giselle's words rambled around in my thoughts. Nothing she'd said made any sense. Not a word of it. I wasn't sure what game she'd been playing, because she'd stopped being flirtatious and had turned so very serious. She honestly believed every word she'd spat my way.

I was just about to turn off the main road and onto the trail that led to my parents' home, when something hit me hard from the side. I picked myself back up and looked around quickly, only finding a beautiful woman standing in my path.

"Maria?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. "I thought James…"

"I've finished with him. I was hoping you and I could…oh, talk," she crooned, stepping closer to me.

She was beautiful, with dark hair and eyes that looked black, and her skin almost glowed in the moonlight. She moved quicker than I expected and was suddenly in front of me. I stepped back a pace or two, but smiled at my own drunkenness.

"Perhaps now isn't a good time, Maria," I told her with a chuckle. "It seems I've had too much to drink. And your…friend? Giselle had a few strange things to say. It's probably best I just go home."

She frowned – or pouted, really – causing her lip to jut out just a little. It was alluring and made her look rather fetching. Chuckling, I blushed when her fingers reached up to rake through my hair, which never quite did what I wanted it to do.

"Oh, Edward…that's really disappointing," she whispered, and her smell was more intoxicating that the drink I was pretty sure was still in my blood. "I find you…much more…delicious than James. And he proved to be…short-lived in his loving."

I laughed, but couldn't help but lean in to her. We were face to face, she was in a beautiful dark blue dress, and her hair fell around her shoulders in dark curls.

"I fear I won't be much better, Maria," I confessed in a whisper, groaning when her lips met mine. "I really shouldn't…"

She kissed me, and her taste, her smell, her beauty pulled me in. I couldn't help it. I didn't stop to think about why she'd be out on the road this late at night, obviously alone. I didn't think about my friend James or what she'd meant by "short-lived." I should've thought about something other than my needs, but I didn't.

When I needed to breathe, she pulled her lips from mine, trailing long, tantalizing kisses down my neck. And suddenly, the feel of it went from something alluring to something painful. My skin, my neck, my throat felt like it was on fire, but I couldn't fight her. She was stronger than she appeared, holding me to her. I felt weak and small in her grasp, grunting when her fingers gripped so hard that I heard the bones in my arm snap.

The world, which was dark enough in the middle of the night, darkened even further. Lights and stars swirled behind my eyelids as she held me to her. Fire erupted in my bones, through my muscles, but I couldn't fight it. I couldn't push her away. My knees hit the ground at the same time that the pressure of her grip was ripped away.

I tried to see, tried to figure out what was going on, but all I could hear was snarling, growling, and then…nothing. The pain was excruciating and unending. It seemed nothing would ever be right again. I was dying, and my thoughts turned to Giselle. She'd been right.

A pale face with blond hair appeared in my blurry vision. "Edward…son, are you all right?"

"It hurts! It's burning," I moaned, writhing in the grass and holding my neck. "Dr. Cullen, please!"

"Damn," he sighed. "Son, I can't… It's too late. I can end this for you, or I can tell you the pain will stop eventually, but you'll be…different. More…but…"

"I don't wanna die," I begged him, reaching for something, anything. "Please…"

He grabbed my face. "I don't want you to die either, Edward, but you'll have to trust me. Can you do that?"

I think I nodded. I think I answered him before I felt myself lifted into his arms like a child. It was at that moment that the fire inside me exploded into something that was beyond pain or comprehension. It felt like the fires of hell itself were licking over every inch of me.

I burned for three days, as Carlisle would later tell me, though I didn't know any concept of time. I burned, my heart felt like it would pound out of my chest, and my skin felt charred and crisp. It seemed nothing could stop it. I barely heard Carlisle's constant assurance that it wouldn't last forever. I'd scream when he'd touch me, but I couldn't stand the feeling of being alone.

When I awoke, my heart no longer beat and the fire had stopped, but everything was different.

_...not__ sure how to tell him. His whole life is now changed. And so much sadness…_

I opened my eyes, squinting that everything was brighter, almost painful to my eyes. Smells – both good and bad – were sharp in my nose. And I could hear everything.

Golden eyes met mine when they gazed around. "Edward, take things slowly. You'll be a little overwhelmed at first."

I swallowed, my throat still feeling the effects of the fire I'd suffered through.

_His future is now…tainted._

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what?"

"Why is my future tainted?" I asked him.

"You heard that?" he asked in a whisper. _Can you hear this, son? You need to stay __calm. Things__ are going to shock you. You're no longer…human._

I sat up in my bed too quickly, and the headboard shattered behind my back. "If I'm not human, then what am I?"

"Oh damn, you can read thoughts," he whispered, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Son, I need you to focus on me. You're more than human, but you're no longer alive. What we are is…vampire. You need to understand that you're more powerful, and you're immortal."

I shook my head, gazing around. "My parents…where are they?"

_This won't be easy. He'll need to hunt __soon. I__ just hope he'll attempt my __diet..._

"Edward," he said, grabbing my shoulders hard. "I came looking for you in three days 's how I found you with…her." He grimaced and shook his head slowly. "I'd been summoned to your parents by your driver. But when I got here, it was too late. Your father…he…"

"He what?" I snarled. The alien sound that came out of me caused me to pause.

"He took your mother's life and then his own. I sent everyone from the house that night. I told them you were ill, but Edward…everything here is now yours."

It was all too much: the fire in my throat, the overwhelming sounds and smells, and the news about my parents. I flew up from the bed and, in a blind rage, destroyed my end of Masen Manor. Nothing was left undisturbed, including my piano.

It took several tries for Carlisle to finally catch me, stop me, pleading the whole time to calm myself.

"Edward, son…" he growled, finally pinning me to the floor. "You _aren't_ alone. I will help you, but you must calm down. I can show you this life, help you."

"How?" I panted, writhing under him, but the fight had left me. "I'm a demon, a soulless creature. Isn't that right?"

Sadness crossed his face, but he nodded. "Maybe, but I've tried a very long time to live my life the right way. Son, I will help you, but you must focus. You'll think better once you've hunted."

"I'm a killer now?" My eyes burned, and I realized I wanted to cry, but was no longer capable of it.

"No, you don't have to be. I can show you another way."

**~oOo~**

**August 2001**

Now that I'd opened myself up to them, my memories assaulted me, and I reclined back on my sofa, my hands gripping my hair as my very long life flashed before my eyes.

I honestly had no idea what I would've done without Carlisle the first years…or now, for that matter. And his patience was never-ending. He guided me, counseled me, and taught me everything about this life, while his own long life had been torment.

Carlisle had told me Maria had been destroyed that night by his hands. He'd torn her apart, setting the pieces on fire – the only way to destroy a vampire. He'd also told me that James had been turned, but he hadn't gotten to him quickly enough, so my old friend was rogue somewhere in the world.

Somehow, he'd managed to help me through the death of my parents, all the while claiming I was ill, in order for me to keep my home, my inheritance, and my name. He'd removed every human from the house, which saddened me greatly, especially when it came to Collette. She'd passed away not long after.

It had taken almost a year for me to conquer the feelings that overwhelmed me. I'd taken to Carlisle's diet just fine, because the mere thoughts of humans threatened my sanity, so there was no way for me to be able to hunt anything but animals. He'd worked with me in order to use and control what he called a gift, letting me learn to decipher the difference between thought and voice.

Between 1901 and 1903, I'd hunted practically every damn day. I'd become a known recluse in the Hunter's Lake community, but that worked in our favor. We'd let them think I was ill from the death of my parents, and soon, no one came near the house. We'd gone as far as Canada to hunt, keeping Masen Manor as our home base.

Carlisle's interest in Giselle and her predictions was pure curiosity. Once I'd told him what I could remember she'd said to me that night, he'd tried going back into Hunter's Lake to find her, but she'd moved on. It took us nearly ten years, to 1911, to finally locate her just outside of Manhattan, and she hadn't been alone; her young daughter, Sue, had been with her. They'd been poor and barely making ends meet. Sue had had a young girl with her, Leah, and no man in sight.

When Giselle had seen me, I'd been able to sense her fear, but she'd still smiled my way. She'd been in her late forties at that point and even more tired and sad than before. However, the difference that time around was that I'd been able to see her mind when she'd pulled out her cards, gazed into her crystal ball, even going as far as reading my palms.

What I'd seen in her mind was just like she'd described before – large wings wrapped around me. Though, it wasn't an angel. _Beautiful swan_. It was the only way Giselle could see it in order for her to make sense of it, but she saw the years fly by, a hundred of them. In her mind, it was soulful brown eyes that gazed at me. It was a scar across pale skin I couldn't quite make heads or tails of, but mostly, she'd seen me. She'd seen how I looked at this girl: the hardened cold expression on my face was gone, and in its place was something I wanted to give a name to, but couldn't. Even more, this girl was clinging to me as if I was her savior, which made no sense to me, considering I was a monster, a demon straight out of hell.

I'd stood up from her table just as confused as the first time. She'd said my life hadn't ended, just my heartbeat, that I could do whatever it was that I wanted, and Carlisle had agreed with her. When she'd told Carlisle that his future held a wife, he, too, had been just as confused. The two of us had brought Giselle, her daughter, and her granddaughter with us back to Hunter's Lake. I'd vowed to take care of them.

For the first several years, they'd lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of the woods. It wasn't until Jacob was born that we'd moved them onto my property for safety reasons. They lived on the edge of my thousand acres in a small house on the other side of my woods. Jacob was Leah's son, though he came much later. On Giselle's deathbed, she'd begged me to take care of her family, swore to me that they were cursed, that there was a family affliction that affected the men, which put Jacob in danger. I didn't understand until the day Jacob turned thirteen and suddenly morphed into a wolf. I'd kept him secret, kept him safe ever since, and in turn, he'd done the same for me and Carlisle…and eventually Esme and Jasper. They watched over Masen Manor when we weren't there.

It was in 1919 that we found Esme. The mere thought of her brought a smile to my face. Carlisle had suggested we live somewhere else for a bit, so he'd practiced medicine in a small town outside of Chicago. It was a place he'd been before, and I didn't know it until after he'd changed her that he'd met her before. She'd been too young, he'd said – only a girl in her teens when he first saw her – but when she was found almost dead from attempted suicide, he'd decided he couldn't live without her any longer.

Esme Platt was the best thing to ever happen to either of us. She'd become Carlisle's wife, but a mother to me. She was and always would be a source of comfort for me. It was Esme, after she'd learned to control her thirst, that had helped us figure out how to open a school. She'd loved the idea of shaping young minds, but knew that we'd have to be careful with the fact that we never aged.

She'd figured out that if we kept the classes small, rotated employees on a regular basis, and stepped away to let someone else run it for a decade or two, that we could, in fact, start a small boarding school. We hand-selected each student, and with Carlisle's connections and my father's name, we were able to push students on to higher educations in colleges all over the U.S.

In fact, it was one of those hand-picking journeys that brought Jasper to us. Carlisle and Esme were interviewing a student in Texas for a possible scholarship when they found him. It was 1942, and he'd been following them for days when they'd finally cornered him. He'd been curious about their golden eyes, when his were red. He'd been able to feel their peace, their happiness, and couldn't help but ask them about it, which had revealed him to be an empath. He was extraordinarily powerful, at that, able to feel and manipulate people's emotions – both human and immortal. It was fascinating to see in his mind.

What had made them bring him back to Masen Manor was the fact that he and I shared the same maker. Maria. She'd changed him during the Civil War. He'd been shocked that she was gone. He'd known she'd left the South in search of more candidates for a newborn army she'd wanted to build, but he'd never seen, nor heard from her again. He was, for all intents and purposes, my brother, and he'd been here ever since. Sometimes, he hid in shadows, like me, but now, he was the official grounds keeper…at least for the next few years.

Over the decades, I'd tried teaching music, but the minds of students weighed too heavily on me. They were loud, secretive, and constantly thinking about a million different things. Now, thanks to several advancements in technology, I was able to run the school behind the scenes and stay hidden. It was still mine, still my father's name and face on the door, but according to those who researched it, it was owned by a large, private accounting firm. But really, it was all me.

Esme taught the first few years, Carlisle played headmaster, but over the years, we'd allowed humans to do the jobs for us. It wasn't until recently that Esme had stepped back in as headmaster, taking a more active role in Masen Academy. She and Carlisle had lived across the country in Washington for many years. It was a new time, and despite that some of the older students would be returning, there would be a whole new staff to teach them.

With a deep sigh, I got up, walked to the night stand, and pulled out an old sketch book. Carlisle had told me to draw what Giselle had seen that day in 1911. With my new mind, my new eidetic memory, I'd been able to remember every single thing I'd seen in her thoughts. I'd drawn wings, dark, frightened eyes, and myself.

Sitting back down on the edge of the sofa, I flipped carefully through the old book. I never could see this elusive girl's face, just pieces to a puzzle, but I'd drawn them all, including the jagged scar. I'd also drawn the new future Giselle had foreseen the last time I saw her, which was Masen Academy.

With each page, my drawings became angrier and impatient. Instead of being happy for Carlisle at having found his mate, I'd become jealous and withdrawn. The soulful eyes that Giselle had seen were there, but I'd drawn them with hate and ire. My curiosity at her predictions had slowly changed into bitterness. I'd hated that I was alone, I'd hated what I'd become, and not even the promise of something that seemed so far away could make it better. I'd begun to think Giselle's foretelling was all a myth.

Now, a hundred years was upon me, and it didn't seem real. I now had a firm grasp of what I was, and to force the owner of these beautiful eyes to see it made me sick. I prayed to a God I was sure had stopped listening that this girl Esme was bringing wasn't the one, because if she was, I didn't know what I'd do.

"Edward," Jasper called from my doorway. "Man, stop that shit. Come for a hunt. You need it."

Smirking up at him, I set the book aside. "I'm not sure it's a good idea, Jasper."

"Yeah, it is." He stepped fully into the room, giving my living space a slow gaze. "Well, at least you finally cleaned this shit up, but damn, getting here is like a haunted fucking house."

Laughing, I nodded and stood up. "Good. That's the rumor with the students, right? The forbidden east wing is haunted?"

His grin was crooked and his golden eyes danced with mirth. "Yeah, I might've started that a few decades ago. There was a kid…Patrick? That little shit couldn't follow the rules if his life depended on it. Always out of bed or where he wasn't supposed to be."

Chuckling, I raked my fingers through my hair, only to shove them in my pockets. I looked at my brother. "Carlisle said Esme thinks this new student is the one."

He smiled sadly, tilting his head at me in a habit I knew too well. He was reading what I was feeling.

"You want it, yet you don't," he stated, and when I nodded, he gripped my shoulder. "Maybe we should go see Leah. Jacob says the old woman's asking for you." He shook me a little. "C'mon. We'll hunt and then see what she's got to say, yeah?"

I wasn't sure I was in the mood for any more predictions, especially on the anniversary of the one that had completely changed my life, but I felt Jasper push determination and something akin to happiness my way.

"You don't fight fair," I growled, launching at him.

"This coming from the asshole that can read thoughts. Priceless," he scoffed, walking to my window and pushing it open. He jumped down the four stories, landing silently. "Let's go, brother. We've got all night, but the students will start arriving over the next few days."

I jumped down beside him, and we took off into the night.

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Again, I promise I won't be this chatty as a habit. LOL There's just a lot to tell you this first time around.**

**Flashbacks won't be the norm. I have ten chapters written on this and so far, this is the only one. I just needed to show Edward's beginning. You'll meet Bella next. **

**Which brings me to the posting schedule… This – for now – will update once a week on Sundays. I find that two times a week is too much for me and in order for you to get a better story, I need to drop down to one time a week. That being said, chapter 2 will go live this coming Sunday as a bonus. ;)**

**I need to thank my usual cast of characters for coming along for this ride. Beffers87 for her beautiful banners and manips. My pre-readers inkedupmom, DrivingEdward, and GooberLou. And as always, my beautiful beta and sounding board, JenRar.**

**Now…you must check out JenRar's new fic **_**A Light in the Darkness**_**. It's amazing, and I promise you'll fall in love with that Edward like I did. It's AU…vamp/human. You'll love it! I promise.**

**Please make sure to check out for recs and the spotlight on MM. All links can be found on my profile here on FFN. All pic teases can be found on FB, Twitter, and my blog. **

**Okay, I think that's everything. I'll see you again on Sunday. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N… Um, WOW! Okay, so maybe I teased you guys too much! LOL ;) Your response to the first chapter was incredible! I can't thank you enough. I'm so glad so many of you are coming along for the ride! :D**

**I'll get out of the way so you can meet Bella. See me at the bottom; I'm answering a few questions that popped up, okay? :D **

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 2**

**August 2001**

**BELLA**

"Bella," Chelsea called from the other side of my bedroom door.

I got up from my bed, tossing my journal aside, and opened the door that I always kept locked.

Chelsea smiled sweetly, taking in my appearance. She was in her mid-forties and had lived with us for as long as I could remember. She was the only one in the house that didn't force me to talk if I didn't want to.

"You look very pretty, sweetheart," she crooned, straightening the collar of my shirt before tucking my hair behind my ear. "I was just wondering if you wanted something to eat before this interview thing you've got going on today."

Nodding, I followed her downstairs, but I pulled her to a stop, pointing to the library.

"Oh, okay. Go ahead. I'll bring it in there," she said cheerfully.

Walking into my favorite room in the house, I smiled that no one was in there. I was in no mood for my mother and stepfather today. My mother was fine, barely acknowledging my existence, but my stepfather acknowledged it _too_ much. I sat down to my piano and lifted the cover over the keys. My fingers grazed over the ivories, my eyes closing, and I started to play. Songs usually represented my mood, and today was no different. I wasn't sure how I wanted things to play out with this interview.

Masen Academy wasn't something I'd even known about, but my English teacher last year, Mrs. Cope, had sent an application in for me, stating that I'd do very well there, especially since I was coming up on my junior year. A part of me was worried that a new school meant new kids to pick on me, but another part saw it as an escape from my house, a chance to get away and start new.

Beethoven morphed into Chopin, and I looked up when Chelsea came into the room with a tray, setting it on the bench next to me.

"Bella," she said softly, cupping my face. "I know my opinion counts for very little around here, but I think…maybe? You should give this school a shot." She handed me a glass of orange juice, tapping the tip of my nose. "Not that I won't miss this gorgeous face, but I think…getting out of here would do everyone some good."

My nose wrinkled and I nodded, taking a drink from the glass. My eyes raked over the library. It was the only place that still had pictures of my father – my real dad. They were high up on the bookshelves, but still, from where I was sitting, I could see him holding me the day I was born, the first time he tried to teach me how to throw a baseball, and my first piano recital.

"I know you miss him, sweetie," Chelsea whispered, kneeling next to me. "And I know you're not happy here. I've been with you a long time. I can see it, even if your mother can't."

I picked at my breakfast, but didn't look her in the eye.

"What happened to you that night was…tragic," she went on, and when I glanced over at her, her eyes were on my neck.

Shaking my head, I pushed her, covering up my throat. I didn't want to talk about that night. Talking about it led to thinking, and thinking led to nightmares. I hated the nightmares.

"Shh, shh, shh," she hushed me, kissing my forehead. "I didn't mean to upset you, Bella. I'm just…worried, you know?"

"I know, Chelsea," I whispered, smiling a little when she beamed at me. I so rarely spoke aloud, and hardly ever to my parents, not that they were around much.

"This interview is for you, too, you know. They're gonna want to _talk_ to you, sweetie."

Swallowing nervously, I nodded. I was aware that this meeting today was with a woman named Esme Cullen. She was an instructor and the headmaster of Masen Academy. Mrs. Cope had explained to me that Mrs. Cullen was aware of my…problem, that the interview would be three parts: a talk with me and my parents, a talk with me alone, and then finally a decision with Mom and Phil.

The thought of Phil made me look back at the pictures of my father. I wasn't really welcome in my own home for the first few years Phil been with us, but now…he'd started to watch me, which was why my bedroom stayed locked. For the most part, though, they ignored me, too selfish in their own lives to pay attention to me, and it wasn't like I demanded it.

My mother had tried for years to get me to speak on some sort of regular basis. I'd gone through therapists, counselors, and even hypnotists, but they'd all told her the same thing. I _could_ speak; I simply chose not to. They also told my mother that it stemmed from my father's death, that since I'd had to be quiet throughout my healing process, I'd merely stopped talking altogether. Others told them it was the one thing that I had control over, since I'd had no control when it happened, and it would change in time. At that point, my mother stopped dealing with it, and Phil on more than one occasion told me he was glad I wasn't one of those loud, obnoxious teenagers.

Chelsea sat with me as I finished my breakfast. When I was done, she picked up my tray and kissed my forehead again. I was pretty sure she knew more than she ever said, things she felt about my stepfather, but she was their employee first and my friend second, so she kept her opinions to herself. She needed this job more than anything because she had a son she was putting through college. She talked about Tim endlessly; he was going to be a doctor, which made her very proud.

Turning back to the piano, I lost myself in music – both my own and someone else's compositions. I played to relax myself, but when the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, my hands started to shake.

Peeking out through the window, I saw a woman standing at the front door, speaking with Chelsea. She was younger than I'd anticipated, with hair that was the shade of a dark honey, and it looked like her eyes matched. Her smile was kind, polite, and she was dressed in a really pretty navy blue suit. I spun around when my mom entered the room, with Phil right behind her. He was sipping a cup of coffee, carrying the newspaper.

My mother took a seat on the sofa, my stepfather in the chair next to her.

"Bella, I know how you feel about new people and new environments, so if you don't want this, then you can just go back Chamberlain High with your friends," my mother stated, though she hardly looked at me.

I wanted to tell her I didn't have friends, but Phil eyed me from across the room, standing up when Chelsea led Mrs. Cullen into the library.

"Phil and Renee Dwyer, this is Esme Cullen from Masen Academy." Chelsea walked to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "And this is Isabella Swan, but she'd rather you call her Bella."

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," Mrs. Cullen said, smiling and shaking my parents' hands, and then she walked to me. "Bella," she greeted, and I smiled back.

I couldn't help it. There was something calming and sweet about her. Her eyes did match her hair, and they were warm. I shook her hand, noting that the rainy day outside had made her hands cold, but followed her to the loveseat and sat next to her as she pulled out a few file folders and set them down on the coffee table.

"Technically, Bella," she started, speaking directly to me, "you're already accepted into Masen, but it's just a matter of going over some of the details with you and your parents. The application and examples of your work were excellent, your test scores at Chamberlain are outstanding, and if I'm understanding correctly, you play piano at an advanced level, yes?"

I nodded, giving her a small smile.

"Good, good," she praised, patting my arm. "Now, let's get started, shall we?"

She spent about thirty minutes going over the basics of the school, some of the rules, and what I was allowed to take with me. She answered a few questions from my mother, but then turned to face me.

"I'd like to speak with Bella alone, if that's all right with all of you."

"Bella doesn't really…_speak_," my mother countered.

My stepfather opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he snapped it closed when Mrs. Cullen eyed him for a second.

"That's perfectly fine," Mrs. Cullen replied in light tone and a soft smile. "I'm sure we'll manage, won't we, Bella?"

I nodded at her and then at my mother, waiting until she and Phil left the room to face Mrs. Cullen again.

She opened a different file, studying it a bit before looking to me. Her eyes drifted down to my throat, and I swallowed nervously. It happened all the time, people staring. It was jagged and ugly, and I used to cover it up, but it wasn't always feasible.

"Bella," she said, sitting forward and folding her hands on her lap. "I know what your file says, but I'd like to ask you some simple things, okay?" When I nodded, she smiled warmly. "As I see it, you _can_ speak, yes?"

I nodded again.

"Does it hurt when you talk?"

I swallowed thickly, shaking my head no, but something about this woman made me at ease, so I opened my mouth, quickly shutting it and leaving my answer a silent one.

Her eyes widened just a little, but she nodded. "Okay, that's good. All your teachers have nothing but flattering things to say about you. They say that despite your lack of verbal participation, you're a bright student and easily taught." She tapped the folder. "A Mrs. Cope seems to think that you'd do very well at Masen. In fact, she was the one that contacted us. She seems to think that your last two years could be better than in public school."

Smiling, I nodded.

"You like her," she stated with a chuckle and grinned when I nodded again. "Well, you should know she likes you, too. Very much. I had an in-depth conversation with her yesterday. She's a very nice woman." Mrs. Cullen sighed, folding and unfolding her hands. "She did explain to me what happened to you four, almost five, years ago. She told me about your father."

Grimacing, I looked down and away from her, feeling my cheeks heat. I wasn't mad, but it was a touchy subject.

"I don't mean to upset you, but as I'm responsible for the school, I have to ask these questions," she explained gently. "Bella, I need to know if you're ready to leave home. I realize that you're sixteen, almost seventeen, but you've been through some rough things. I need to know if you're capable of handling a tougher school schedule, having a roommate, and leaving your parents. And I really wish I could hear from you about it."

Grimacing, I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out. I swallowed nervously, licking my lips, when I finally spoke, she gave me her undivided attention.

"I can…handle the work," I told her, running my fingertips across my scar. "They were going to skip me a grade, but Phil told them not to."

She frowned at that, but I got up and grabbed a book off the shelf, handing it to her. She opened it up to the first page, and I pointed to the first newspaper clipping.

"My dad," I whispered. "He was a judge. He was home with me that last night. We were robbed…I woke up and…he tried, but there wasn't…" I shook my head, pleading with her silently that I didn't have to say any more.

Mrs. Cullen nodded, taking my hand in hers to guide me to the cushion next to her. "Okay, but I have a couple more questions. Please, sit." She closed my photo album and set it aside. "As a part of the requirement, I have your medical records, too. I've had a doctor look them over. There are a few… How do I put this? There are a few injuries that need explaining."

"Nightmares," I whispered. "I don't always…know where I am when I wake up, so I've fallen out of bed or been restrained."

"You know this? Or is this something someone explained to you?"

"No, they tell me what happened. I never remember," I barely said aloud, my brow wrinkling at the stern expression on her face.

"Okay, my last question is this… Do you _want_ to come to Masen Academy? I'm aware that ultimately, your parents make the decision, but when I talk to them one more time, I'd like to know where you stand."

I thought about it, gazing around the room. The thought of starting over somewhere new was scary, but enticing. The idea of leaving my mother and stepfather had good and bad points. I'd miss my mother and Chelsea, but lately, Phil had started to make me uncomfortable, more than once telling me that I was prettier than my mother, that I should wear more revealing clothing, and asking me about boys as school. I felt his eyes on me more often than he used to.

"I…" I swallowed nervously, nodding a little. "I want to come."

She grinned, clapping her hands once. "Excellent. Now, could you do me a favor and send your parents back in one more time? We'll see if I can't steal you away." She winked, causing me to giggle, but I got up from the loveseat and left the room.

I stepped into the kitchen where Chelsea and my parents were. I pointed toward the library, and my mother nodded, tugging Phil out of the room. Chelsea, though, grinned, put a finger to her lips, and pushed the button on the wall, allowing the speaker to turn on.

My mouth fell open, and I couldn't help but laugh, covering my mouth with my hands. Chelsea shot me a wink, but continued to clean the counters as we listened in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dwyer, I think Bella would be a fantastic addition to Masen Academy," Mrs. Cullen proclaimed once the door closed to the library. "I think with her academic record and her musical background, she'd fit in nicely. In fact, I have in mind the perfect roommate for her. And I'm considering bringing in a special music teacher for her, as well. I asked Bella if she wanted to come, and she told me yes. I'm aware that her inheritance from her father's passing is open for education, though she's not due to receive all of it until she's eighteen, so I assume that the partial scholarship I'm offering would be helpful."

"Bella _told_ you she wanted to go?" my mother asked her incredulously.

"Yes, she did speak to me. It wasn't a lot, but I'm happy to say that she answered a few of my questions out loud."

Phil scoffed. "Unbelievable. You're here…what? An hour?"

"Well, perhaps this is a sign of good things to come," Mrs. Cullen countered, though her voice sounded a little rough. "Maybe Masen Academy can pull her out of her shell." She paused for a moment, and there was a shuffling of papers before she finally spoke again. "Here's the thing. I think Bella deserves this chance. I think she'll grow and blossom in Hunter's Lake. I will tell you that I have a doctor on staff that may be able to help her."

"She's been seen by every specialist, Mrs. Cullen," my mother stated. "Nothing has worked."

"Then one more won't hurt," Mrs. Cullen replied firmly.

My eyes widened, and I locked gazes with Chelsea, whose mouth was hanging open as the room went silent. It seemed that Mrs. Cullen was fighting for me to go. We both held our breaths as we waited for someone to say something.

Finally, my mother's voice came over the speaker. "Okay, we'll give it a chance. A year."

"Excellent," Mrs. Cullen stated. "Now…I'll be in town for the next two days, so I'd be happy to take Bella back with me. That will give her time to pack. I'll leave a list of supplies she'll need and the list of things she can and can't take with her. These are her admission forms, so have those filled out when I come back on Friday morning to pick her up."

Chelsea punched the button on the wall, turning to me with a squeal. "You're in!" she cheered in a whisper. "Are you happy? Are you sure?"

I nodded fervently, grinning her way.

She cupped my chin, looking at me with the same expression she wore when she talked about Tim. "Okay, let's get that list and get you packed."

**~oOo~**

"Bella," Chelsea called from behind me.

I spun around and peeked out of my closet to see her standing there, holding a stack of brand new journals. My eyes widened and I grinned.

"I thought you should have backups," she said with a soft laugh. "That one is lookin' a little ragged, sweet pea."

Giggling, I walked to her and hugged her, taking the notebooks from her. There were six, all different colors, and all still wrapped in plastic. I looked at my old one. The binding was bent, there were doodles all over the cover, and I knew that some pages inside were ripped, wrinkled, or stained with coffee. However, she was right. That one was almost full.

She cupped my face. "Don't you ever stop writing in them. That's your voice, sweetheart. Until you find yours again, use it. That's the one thing you took away from all those damn doctors your mother dragged you to," she said with a derisive tone, but she tapped my temple lightly.

I looked down and away from her, but I nodded because it was true.

She tilted my face back up. "Charlie would love that you're writing to him. You two were like…"

"Chocolate and peanut butter," I finished in a whisper, but grinned when she laughed.

"Yes, exactly!" She chuckled, kissing my forehead. "He used to tell you that, right?"

Nodding, I smiled. My dad and I had been close, inseparable, and I'd felt empty since the day he died. Writing to him in my journal was a way to keep him close, keep him alive in my head. I usually told him everything, especially things that made me nervous or upset, but the only thing I didn't write down was what had happened that last night four years ago. I couldn't, simply because I blamed myself.

Shaking my head to clear it, I looked back at Chelsea, pointing to the trunk that sat open in the middle of the room.

"Ah, yes, you're just about packed," she praised, kneeling next to it to check through it. "You've got plenty of clothes, right? You'll have a uniform there, but you've got enough of your own stuff to get you through, at least until Christmas?"

I tugged at her. "I'll be okay."

She smiled. "You'll be better than just okay, Bella. You're going to go on to bigger, better things. I have a good feeling about this. But I'm gonna miss you somethin' awful."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I hugged her. She rocked me back and forth, running a hand flat down over my hair all the way down to the middle of my back, over and over.

"C'mon, my beautiful girl," she said, shaking me a little. "Mrs. Cullen will be here soon."

Mrs. Cullen was right on time when she'd said she'd be, though I never heard the doorbell. My trunk was stuffed, closed, and sitting outside the library while I sat at my piano and played. I hoped that I'd be able to play at Masen. It was relaxing for me, an outlet that was even better than writing to my dad.

I played a song I'd been working on for what seemed like forever, but couldn't seem to finish it. My fingers stumbled over the notes, replaying, fixing, but still stalling out before the end.

"That's beautiful, Bella," I heard from the doorway, and I glanced up to see Mrs. Cullen standing there with my parents. "I don't quite recognize it."

I pointed to myself, indicating that it was mine.

"You compose?" she asked with a wide smile and touch of amusement. When I nodded, she shook her head. "Yes, I'm definitely going to have to see if I can get you an advanced instructor. I have someone perfect in mind, but I need to see if he's…available."

I shrugged and stood up. I was pretty sure I could work with whoever they had.

"Well, we'll see," she chirped happily. "Are you set to go?"

Nodding, I pointed to my trunk.

Chelsea stepped into the door. "Bella, I'll load the trunk into the car. You can say goodbye to your parents."

I'd forgotten that they were even home for my leaving. In fact, I'd have almost bet they wouldn't be, but they stood in the entryway, waiting for me.

I hugged my mother, kissing her cheek.

She pulled me close, whispering, "Are you sure about this?" When I nodded, she said, "Okay, then call us if you need anything – or text, rather…"

I placed a hand over my heart in a vow that I would, knowing it was a lie. When I went to look for Phil, he was looking at me almost angrily.

"I don't like it, Bells," he stated, and I grimaced at the nickname he used. Only my dad called me that. "I don't think you're ready to be on your own."

I shrugged at him, because in all reality, I really wanted to go. I needed to get out of the house that had once belonged to my father. I'd been trapped in my own head and that house filled with memories that Phil was slowly erasing for far too long.

With one more hug to Chelsea and a glance back at my house, I sat down in the taxi next to Mrs. Cullen. With a touch of guilt as we pulled away, I realized I'd not said a word to my mother.

The car was quiet as we drove through Boston, though we weren't going in the direction of the airport.

Almost as if she could read my mind, Mrs. Cullen spoke up. "I hope you don't mind, but I much prefer the train to flying." When I shook my head no, she smiled. "Terrible things, planes. You're trapped in a tube, surrounded by smelly people and loud engines. The train is much better. Besides, there's a train station right in Hunter's Lake, rather than having to drive from Manhattan."

Laughing softly, I sat back until we arrived at the train station, and it didn't take long to unload our bags, check in, and find our train. Though, Mrs. Cullen seemed to be very comfortable doing so, like she'd done it a million times.

I was allowed to keep my backpack, but my trunk was toted away, along with her two pieces of luggage – very expensive luggage, I noted. We found our seats quickly, and I was happy that we'd have our own table, which meant I could write in my journal along the way. I pulled out a pen and my beat-up journal, setting it down in front of me while Mrs. Cullen pulled out a laptop.

Flipping through my old journal, I had to smile. Chelsea was right; it was time for a new one, though this one wasn't quite full yet. I didn't write in it every day, so the first few pages were about a year old.

_Hey, Dad. I know it's been too long, but I didn't have much to say since last time. I'm 16 today. __Somehow, it__ seems wrong to have Phil take me for my driver's license instead of you. But I got it anyway. Not that it'll change much around here. It's not like I have tons of friends to take to the mall or movies, and Phil says I can't have a car yet, so I don't feel like it's all that big of deal._

I turned a few more pages, frowning at my scrawling penmanship across the page.

_I sometimes feel like a freak. It's bad enough that my scar is the first thing that everyone sees, it's even worse when I truly have nothing to say. Nothing. Mom gets so __mad and Phil__ barely looks my way, but I don't want to talk to them. The last doctor told Mom that I do it on purpose, and now she looks at me like I've done something wrong. I can't even talk to her, Dad. How do I tell her that talking doesn't change anything, that talking was what took you away? And how do I tell her it's all my fault? That it was me that made her a widow? I can't. Hell, I can't even answer the boy at school who asked me to __homecoming._

I flipped a few more pages, snorting a little at my entry.

_There's a new rumor at school about me. I thought you'd like to hear it, though I have no idea whether you can see me or not. I'm not sure what I believe when it comes to heaven, hell, or nothing at all. There's a part of me that hopes you're watching over me, that you're the one that stops my nightmares, not Phil. I hope that you see that I miss you every day. Anyway, the rumor is that I tried to kill myself. Funny, right? The kids at school see my scars, they know I don't speak, so they assume I'm this emo, __suicidal cutter__. I'm not any of those things. I'm just…lost._

I skipped over Christmas, because that holiday wasn't a good one. I'd had a horrendous nightmare that had almost put me in a state of shock, all because I'd heard a man's voice that reminded me of that last night with my dad.

"You write often?" Mrs. Cullen asked me from over the laptop screen.

I shook my head no, tearing out a sheet of clean paper from the back of the notebook. It was easier to write her the answer.

_One__ of the __therapists my__ mother took me to said that writing to my father would help me voice my mind._

She smiled. "Was he right?"

_A little. I was closer to my dad than my mother._

"So I noticed," she stated. "You're quieter today than when I interviewed you. Are you nervous? Are you sure this is what you want?"

I cleared my throat and nodded. "I'm sure, but I am nervous. New…people don't always…"

"Understand," she finished for me, closing her laptop and resting her arms on the table in front of her. She smiled warmly my way when I nodded. "I won't lie to you. Some of the students are a touch…spoiled, though we have some good ones. I will be having a staff meeting before classes start, so you won't have to worry about your instructors."

I sighed in relief over that one.

"From what I've gathered from Mrs. Cope, your mother, and that wonderful Chelsea, you've had some…I don't want to use the word bullying, but I'm thinking things weren't easy for you in public school."

I pulled the paper closer, writing out my answer.

_Some of my __classmates, I'd__ known since before my dad died. So they didn't understand why in seventh grade I was okay, but in eighth, I couldn't talk. I actually couldn't speak then._

I touched my throat, my scar, and she nodded.

"In all fairness, Bella, they probably just didn't understand," she stated. "At that age, kids are…easily distracted. And I could imagine that you were still grieving." I wrinkled my nose, but she went on. "The classes at Masen are small. We have about eighty students making up the entire student body, and that's ninth through twelfth grade. I think you'll find that it's helpful in some ways, because you have more one-on-one time with your teachers, but it can also mean that your classmates all know one another. You can't just sink into the background."

I nodded, eager to hear more, so I asked, "What's it like?"

She laughed softly, a beautiful sound. "Oh, to hear the students describe it, it's an old haunted castle. It used to belong to a lawyer around the turn of the last century. He was married and had a son, who decided to turn his own home into the school in his father's honor after he died tragically." She glanced out the window and then back to me. "It is a castle, though some parts have been changed to accommodate the classrooms, dorms, and students. The staff lives on another part of the property."

I pointed at her in question.

"Me? No, I live in the castle. My husband is the doctor on staff, though he occasionally will get called into the hospitals in Manhattan for certain cases. Which reminds me," she said, leaning closer. "I'd like you to see him. I told your parents about him. No pressure, no tests, just let him look you over."

Shrugging and nodding at the same time, I agreed. I was used to doctors.

"Good," she sighed with relief. "Anyway, there aren't a lot of rules at Masen. No cell phones in class, no being out of bed past curfew, and stay within the fenced grounds. Oh, and no going in the east wing."

My eyebrows shot up.

"It's…under construction," she stated, but my eyes narrowed on her, because that didn't sound quite like she was telling the truth. She smirked my way. "They say that end of the house is the haunted side, anyway. You'll learn your way around quickly, Bella. Don't worry."

Giggling, I shook my head, but opened my notebook to the last page, picking up my pen.

_Hey, Daddy… Well, I'm on my way to Masen Academy. I'm sure if you were still here, I wouldn't be going, but you aren't. It was time, Daddy. I needed to leave Mom. She's not the same since you've been gone. She used to be so fun, burning __dinners, baking__ cookies, and going to all my piano recitals, but all that has changed. She's…different, but happy. Or happier, calmer. She wasn't that way before, when it was the three of us. I felt…in the way, like I was a nuisance, and it doesn't help that I'm not normal, that I'm a freak. I'm pretty sure she doesn't know what to do for me sometimes, so she just…stays away. It's better this way, I think. I hope that this gives Mom and Phil a chance to not worry about me, a chance to be normal without me around. And I hope that I can fit in, though I usually don't. You'd like Mrs. Cullen, Dad. She's __nice, and she__ makes me feel like I can talk to her, though I can't always find the words. And I hope my roommate is nice._

I closed the notebook, folded my arms on top of it, and set my chin down. I stared out the window, watching Boston slowly fade away. I must've fallen asleep at some point, because I woke with a start and a deep gasp.

"You're okay," Mrs. Cullen soothed from across the table between us. "We just left Penn Station in Manhattan. We'll be pulling into Hunter's Lake in about an hour or so."

Nodding, I rubbed my face, smiling her way.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Soda? Hot chocolate, maybe?"

"Coffee," I whispered, and she held up a hand to order it.

By the time the city had fallen away completely and had been replaced by beautiful woods, I was much more awake. My hands wrapped around my mug, relishing the warmth. Mrs. Cullen was doing the very same thing, though I noticed she didn't drink as much as just hold her cup in her hands. It seemed like we'd just gotten up to speed when we were slowing back down again, and I smiled when I saw the small train station. It looked like something out of an old photo or a novel.

It was a wooden platform that extended off of a small building. There were a few people milling about, but really, it was quite empty. I noticed the station employee waiting patiently for the train to come to a full stop, a boy and a girl about my age, and a very tall, dark-haired man with tanned skin standing off to the side.

"This is us, Bella," Mrs. Cullen said, placing her laptop back into her briefcase and gathering her things. "I see Jacob is already here to pick us up."

I wasn't sure which person on the platform was this Jacob, but I followed her down the aisle, to the door, and down the steps.

"Hey, Mrs. C," a deep voice said from behind us as we waited for our bags. I turned around to see it was the very tall dark man I'd noticed before. "Good trip, I'm assuming?" he asked, wearing a crooked smile.

"Yes, Jacob," she said back to him. "This is Isabella Swan. She'll be starting her junior year with us. You can call her Bella," she introduced me. "Bella, this is Jacob Black. He's head of security at Masen."

My eyebrows raised up, but I shook his hand and smiled.

"Bella, huh? _Bella Swan_," he sang with a chuckle. And I could've sworn he muttered, "Well, ain't that some shit for you."

Mrs. Cullen seemed to give him a warning glare, but only said, "That'll be enough, son."

"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled again.

Jacob gave off the most laidback, happiest vibe I'd ever felt around someone. He seemed to smile the entire time he was loading our bags onto a cart, placing them into the trunk of a limo, and opening the doors for us.

"Oh, we've got one more ridin' with us, Mrs. C," he stated, holding up a finger. "Alice Brandon must've been on your same train."

"Well, that's good news," Mrs. Cullen said with a grin, turning to me. "It's good that she's riding with us. I wanted you to meet her. I think you two will make good roommates."

Just then, the door opened to the back seat. A tiny thing slipped into the back with us, smiling at Mrs. Cullen.

"I _knew_ I'd get to ride with you, Mrs. C," she squealed, hugging the woman next to me.

"Of course you did, Alice," Mrs. Cullen said with a chuckle. "I'm sure you saw this, too." She pointed my way.

"Absolutely!" Alice chirped, holding out her hand. "You and I are gonna be roommates…and…" Her face went blank for a moment. "And good friends. You can relax, 'cause I know you don't talk…much. But you will."

Mrs. Cullen was laughing her ass off over that little speech, but she leaned down to my ear. "Alice here has a bit of a psychic in her blood. She's been pretty accurate since she started here last year. You two are both juniors."

I glanced over to the girl in question, my brow furrowing. She was an adorable thing, with chin-length black hair and bright bluish-green eyes, and she seemed full of energy...until Mrs. Cullen asked her a question.

"How was your summer, Alice?"

She frowned, shaking her head. "Don't ask. Miserable. My sister hates me, my father wasn't home most of the time, and my mother blames me because I told her it would happen. I should've gone to my grandmother's…or stayed here. I'm glad to be back _home_." She turned to me, her face sincere. "You'll love it here. I do. I'll show you _everything_."

I jumped when the trunk of the limo slammed shut, but Jacob folded himself behind the wheel of the car, giving us a glance over his large shoulder. "Okay, ladies…the castle awaits."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Yes, before you ask…Alice is human. ;) **

**I'm aware some of you were ready for more Edward. Just to give you a heads up, the chapters won't flip-flop like this. I needed two full chapters to introduce the two of them. Now, the POVs will split. :) **

**Make sure you check out JenRar's new fic **_**A Light in the Darkness**_**. I PROMISE you'll love it. It comes with a bit of a trigger warning, but she's handled the topic with love, a light touch, and amazing sensitivity. And OMG, I love her Edward! LOL**

**All pic teasers can be found on Twitter, FB, and my blog. All links are on my profile. :) **

**Okay…this will be the permanent posting day – Sunday. So I'll see you next week with teasers going up most likely on Tues or Thursdays. :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N… I NEVER expected this kind of reaction. Thank you so, so much for every review and PM! :D You have no idea what they mean to me! **

**This picks up right where Chapter 1 left off, with Edward and Jasper hunting. I won't keep you up here. See me at the bottom. I'm answering a few questions…**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 3**

**August 2001**

**EDWARD**

As I leaned against an old, crooked oak tree, I caught sight of the thin tendrils of smoke curling up out of Leah and Jacob's little cottage just on the other side of my property wall. With my keen sense of smell, I could tell she was cooking, something that Jacob raved about on many occasion. To me, it simply smelled like a wood-burning stove. My attraction to human food was long gone, and I wasn't sure I missed it. Or maybe I just couldn't remember that far back to when I'd liked it.

Glancing down at myself, I made sure my hunt had stayed a clean one. I remembered a time when clothes had been destroyed, I'd been covered in blood, and I could go nowhere near a human. But it had been so long that I could get it done without much fuss. Tonight, it was a moose and a black bear. And as far as humans were concerned, the draw was there, just not the desire. Their blood was sweet, taunting, but their thoughts were complex, filled with memories of family, friends, and lovers. Ending that would drive me insane, and at one point, it almost did.

_Sweet Jesus, Edward…you're killing me tonight. All this morose nostalgia. What the hell?_

Chuckling, I turned to see Jasper approaching. His eyes were a bright gold from his hunt, which smelled like a few possible lynx, maybe a moose.

"Give me a break, Jasper," I sighed, shaking my head. "Don't you remember your first hundred years?"

He grinned, shrugging his shoulder. "I try to forget them, actually." He nonchalantly rubbed his arm, his fingers grazing over the endless scars left by Maria's newborns. "At least you had Carlisle. Yeah?"

"True," I agreed and then glanced at the wall."She's waiting for us."

"Us? Uh, no. I can barely handle _you_ tonight." He shook his head. "No offense to Miss Leah, but her emotions go a little haywire when she's reading futures, especially when it comes to you. I'll be sitting this one out."

"Fine, fine. Wait for me," I told him.

We scaled the stone wall, landing silently on the other side. Jasper wandered off toward the small pond, shooting a wave over his shoulder and silently telling me he'd be on the dock.

Over the years, Giselle's cottage hadn't changed much. Jacob kept it in good shape, repairing any problems and keeping the place surrounded by flowerbeds overflowing with whatever he could keep blooming. It was small, with a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. It wasn't much, but they'd always told me they felt safer, happier inside my protection.

I walked up the stone path, knocking lightly on the door. I knew Jacob was in his wolf form somewhere on the grounds, so Leah would be home alone. My eyes met ones which were dark, almost black when the door creaked open. The aging woman in front of me still looked like the little girl I'd brought back, but only in her mischievous eyes and big, warm smile. There were wrinkles where there once were freckles and gray in her straight black hair she had twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck.

"Edward," she greeted, almost like a sigh of relief. "I was hoping you'd come. I know what today is, and I know you're probably upset. But I wanted to see you. Please, come in." She opened the door and stepped aside.

"Leah, it's good to see you," I said, shoving my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. I wasn't sure I wanted to be here, but I'd come as she'd asked.

I entered the house, smiling at the warmth, the cozy feeling the tiny place gave off. I sat down at the kitchen table. Leah's thoughts were jumbled. She was worried about me, and images of her grandmother flickered just beneath the surface of her thoughts.

She sat down across from me and picked up my hands, never flinching over the touch of my cool skin. She'd been that way since a child, but kids tended to accept strange things quicker than adults.

"I've missed seeing you," she chided. "You used to come by more, but now, not so much."

"My apologies, Miss Leah. Things at the house are…busy. We're starting a new school year soon, and changes in staffing needed to be made," I explained, though it still wasn't a good enough excuse. Though, really, she understood. We'd just brought her son back as a visible employee. However, this time around, he was playing his own son.

"Mmm," she hummed, tilting her head at me. "Changes needed to be made," she echoed, "but changes are truly coming."

Grimacing, my gaze dropped to the table top. "You're sure, Leah? Was she right? All those years, all this time that's passed, and Giselle's still right about this?"

Leah chuckled, sounding almost childlike in its sweet sound. "My grandmother was a lot of things, but wrong wasn't usually one of them."

I laughed a little. "Yeah, she told me that same thing that night."

"I'm sure she did. She was quite powerful back then. And holy crow, did she have a crush on you," the old woman sang teasingly.

"No," I argued. "That can't be true… It was… I'm a…"

"Oh, sweetie," Leah sighed, shaking her head slowly. "You never see yourself clearly. She knew what you'd become, but she also knew that you weren't for her. First of all, you were too young for her back then. And then, once she saw your future, she accepted things as they would eventually be." She patted my hands gently. "Despite how you see yourself, Edward, you need to realize that deep down, you're a good man. You've treated us with kindness and given us protection when we needed it most. You never saw my grandmother for the whore that society around us did. And you've created an amazing place for kids to learn. Those are special parts of you. Your mother would be proud of you."

I smiled ruefully, but couldn't help but ask, "And my father?"

Leah tsked, sounding so much like Giselle that I grinned. "Oh, to hell with him. From what I've heard, he was an abusive drunk who didn't deserve all that he'd been handed. Stop basing your deeds on the opinion of a man who didn't care about anyone but himself. Carlisle has been more of a father to you than the man who helped create you. You should be proud of that."

"I am, Leah, but sometimes, it's hard to forget."

"I know, son."

Silence fell over us like a blanket, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Leah's mind was calm, sweet, thinking about things she'd learned from Giselle just before she died.

With that line of thinking, I couldn't help but ask, "Leah, are you sure Carlisle and I can't help you research this so-called curse? There's got to be something that can be done to reverse it."

"I didn't call you to my house about me…or about Jacob," she huffed, almost pulling away from me, but I held her hands. "We are a long line of cursed people, Edward. For a long time, if the babies were born boys, they were destroyed, but apparently, it didn't matter. Jacob is proof of that. The wolf is carried through the mother, but the ability to change is trapped in the men. My own mother had a theory – or a guess, really – that once Jacob settled down and married, he'd start to age again. We've never been able to prove it…"

"Because Jacob hasn't settled down," I finished with a chuckle. "Well, he doesn't seem to mind not aging; then again, not much bothers him."

"That's thanks to you, Edward. You and Carlisle have given him fantastic male role models. He's a better boy than if we'd been left on the streets. He'd have ended up a little thief, a thug."

"Boy…" I laughed again. "He's almost fifty-two, Leah."

"Right…and he looks a helluva lot better at fifty-two than I do at this miserable ninety-two. Getting old sucks, Edward. Be grateful about missing out on the misery of growing old, getting sick, and losing normal functions. My hearing isn't what it used to be," she lectured, giving me a wink when she was done.

There was something deep down in her thoughts she was covering up. It centered around the mention of sickness. With a deep breath, I inhaled everything about her. While her blood was as sweet as any human's, that wasn't what I was seeking, and I found that something was just..._off_ about her scent. Something foul, something…sick.

"Leah…"

"Now then, let's look at you," she chirped, pulling out a deck of tarot cards, but I knew she'd busted me. She just wasn't going to allow me to talk about it.

I let it go for the moment, but I'd definitely be asking Carlisle to check on her. She let go of my hands, laying out her cards one by one. I saw evil, death, love – the last one making me groan.

"Will you wait?" she snapped with a grin. "Damn, always so pessimistic."

Laughing, my head fell back, and I folded my arms across my chest in an effort to keep still.

"That's better. Sit there and behave."

She laughed softly at my pouting face, but she sobered quickly when she truly worked through what she was doing. She pulled the crystal ball closer, peering deeply into it, but pushed it away, asking for my hands again. I laid them down on the table, palms up, and waited quietly, because again, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Her eyes met mine. "I still see your 'swan.'" When I nodded, she went on. "I see death again, Edward, which worries me. I'm not sure how that relates to you, but I see it. It's here…and here…and here again," she stated, pointing to the cards. "I see…you traveling." She frowned, glancing down at the cards and back to my face. "Not now, but you want to…and eventually, you will leave the castle."

"Permanently?" I asked, my mouth hanging open.

"It's not for certain."

I sighed, pulling my hands away in order to rake one through my hair. "Okay. Anything else?"

"I see…music," she said with a smile.

I scoffed. "Leah, I don't play much anymore."

"It's not you playing," she countered, raising an eyebrow at me.

In her mind, it was soft, delicate, feminine, _human_ hands that graced the black and white keys.

"The last thing I see is…ruby eyes."

"No," I growled, standing up so quickly that my chair fell back. "That'll never happen, Leah. If what you're saying is true, then put it together... I kill someone? More than one someone? I refuse to believe I'd do that. Never again…"

She stood up and walked to me, grasping my arms. "Relax, Edward. Of course you'd see it that way, but there are many ways to read what I've told you. Just because there's death doesn't mean you caused it."

"But red eyes?" I asked in a whisper.

"Read my mind, Edward," she stated calmly. "See what I see. Those red eyes are full of love. And your _beautiful swan _is that much clearer, though her voice is silent to me. She'll be here soon, and she'll test everything you've ever known."

"Esme thinks she found her," I said softly, trying not to soak up everything Leah was seeing, but it was impossible. Again, deep brown eyes, large wings, and a scar.

Leah smiled. "Perhaps. You've drawn her a hundred times from my grandmother's mind."

"More than that," I sighed, righting the chair I'd knocked over and falling down into it heavily. "What do I do?"

She smiled, sitting next to me. "You never truly believed, Edward. Even after Carlisle, Esme, even after Jasper and Jacob, you didn't believe, because you didn't _want_ to believe. Is it so hard to imagine your heart full? Is it that difficult to consider yourself worthy of this soulmate you're fighting so hard not to want?"

I didn't have an answer for those questions; I merely blinked at her stupidly. She chuckled, patting my hands again.

"I think…" she started, smiling warmly my way. "I think you'll figure it out. I think you'll simply have to experience it for yourself, but I want you to promise me that you'll be careful, that you'll take all of this slowly. Those death cards scare me, Edward, and it would hurt me greatly should something happen to you. But while I truly believe all that my grandmother told you, the truth is that you control your own destiny. You can make it all that you desire, or you can stay in darkness."

"I don't know what I want, Leah," I whispered, silently begging her for all the answers, but knowing she didn't really have them.

"You will." Her answer was firm, but her voice, her thoughts were sweet and kind, hopeful.

We both glanced toward the door when Jacob's loud laugh met our ears. His large form walked through the door.

"I'm starving," he bellowed, rubbing his stomach. "Break time, boss."

Snorting, I rolled my eyes at him. "I'll leave you to it. I've kept your mother up too late as it is." I stood up, but leaned down to kiss Leah's cheek. "Good night, Leah, and thank you."

"Anytime, Edward."

I stepped out into the night, seeing Jasper's silhouette sitting on the dock down at the lake. I walked at a human pace to join him. From the bank, Masen Manor looked majestic, regal almost. Its dark stones, lit windows in different sections, and the faint sounds of humans milling about almost reminded me of how the house had once been. However, in a few days, the whole place would be filled with just under a hundred students. It would be loud with laughter, arguing, and classes. I'd have to hide in my wing more than not. I took a seat next to Jasper, gazing over toward the dorms. Even through the windows, I could see that the cleaning staff was readying the boys' dormitory. The girls' would most likely be tomorrow.

Jasper's gaze was on the still lake water, but his thoughts were concerned. _I heard her from here. You okay?_

"Yeah, I think so," I replied aloud. "It doesn't matter, though. I've got a school to run."

He smiled, his head dropping as he shook it."You're a stubborn ass, but you're my brother. I don't like the prediction of death," he stated almost angrily. "No matter what, I've got your back, Edward."

I nodded, standing back up. "I know. I need to…go for a run, but I won't be far. Have Esme call me when she's back. I'm absolutely certain she'll want to see me." I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but failed miserably.

Jasper's laugh was deep, but he nodded. "Oh, I'm sure she will."

**~oOo~**

I made my way down the long, narrow passageway, smirking at the sounds of activity just on the other side of the wall. The students were starting to arrive, and the staff was in full swing. I could get to just about any part of Masen Manor without ever entering a main corridor, room, or wing. It was the benefit of having grown up here, and it was helpful as hell when I needed to stay out of sight. Through the years, Carlisle had helped me add a few more just to make it possible to move about the castle. I could leave the east wing and never set eyes on someone else.

The secret passage was dark, dusty, and cold, though none of that bothered me. I could see just as well in the dark hallway as I could in the light of day. A human, however, would be almost blind.

I came out into the east wing, taking the long running rugs that provided a softer path, but also covered up years of dust and debris. My destruction of that wing sat untouched, except for my own living quarters. Stepping into my bedroom, I smirked at who was waiting patiently for me.

"Esme," I greeted, nodding my head once, but she wouldn't have it. She yanked me into an almost smothering hug. When she pulled back, she cupped my face, which made me ask, "You gonna tell me or not?"

Her laugh was short-lived, but it was her thoughts that made me frown. She was covering them up with unnecessary student records…every student, save one.

"I will, son, but you're going to have to be patient. I told Carlisle to meet me in your room," she explained, kissing my cheek before taking a seat on my sofa. "Before he gets here, I will tell you that there will be a staff meeting first thing Monday morning. I'd like you there, even if it's on the other side of the wall."

"Okay," I said, dragging out the word and taking a seat next to her.

Her formal speech, her hardened tone, and the covering of her thoughts were all a little unnerving. Normally, Esme was the warmest person I knew, but at the moment, she was slightly scaring me.

She got up from the sofa when Carlisle entered the room. They reunited with smiles, kisses, and soft words between them. It was something that happened every time she went on a trip to interview new students, which usually took a few weeks. With promises to make up later for their time apart, they both joined me in the sitting area of my living quarters.

"I needed to see both of you before anyone else concerning this new student, Isabella Swan," she started, smiling when I flinched at the sound of the girl's name. "Son, look at me," she ordered gently. When my gaze met hers, she pushed my hair from my forehead in such a motherly gesture that it made my chest hurt. "Edward, all predictions and fortunes aside, this new student is…different."

I tried like hell to see an image of the girl through her mind, but she was still keeping me out.

"Why are you blocking me?" I asked her.

She smirked, patting the side of my face. "Because business first, then we'll talk about personal."

Carlisle chuckled, shaking his head. "God, Edward, you look like she's going to set you on fire. Would you please calm down?"

Esme turned her sharp gaze on him, saying, "I'd like you to see this girl. According to her parents, she's seen every doctor known to man in Boston, but nothing seems to work." He opened his mouth, and she stopped him with a raised hand. "I realize you're not a psychiatrist, but please, just…see her. She's already agreed to it."

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, sounding like an ass, but not being able to read Esme's thoughts was killing me.

Esme took a deep breath and let it out. "She rarely speaks out loud, son. There's a…scar that goes almost goes completely across her throat – like someone tried to take her damn head clean off. At first, I know she wasn't able to speak. Now…she does so only when not given any other choice." Her brow furrowed, but she added, "She spoke to me, but I'm not sure I heard her say a single thing to her mother and stepfather."

Carlisle sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What happened?"

Esme sat back, adjusting her clothes. "Robbery, it seems. Bella showed me the newspaper clippings. She and her father, who was a federal judge at the time, were home alone, asleep. Someone broke in. They succeeded in killing Charles Swan, but Bella survived…just barely."

"They couldn't just take the stuff? They had to kill him?" I asked, my mouth hanging open.

Carlisle smiled sadly. "And you think we're the dangerous ones out there, Edward. Humans are desperate, cruel creatures when push comes to shove." He turned to his mate. "I'll be happy to see her. I'm assuming prior to the staff meeting Monday?"

"Yes, please. I'd like your opinion on her before I explain to the teachers that her verbal participation isn't required and I'll have no one pushing her. Anything that can be spoken aloud can be written down or typed. And her work at her prior high school was extremely impressive. I'm not sure it's necessary to force her."

Carlisle and I gaped at her. There was something about this girl that was bringing out the protective mother in Esme. She was almost angry and feral about it.

"You're protecting this girl, sweetheart," Carlisle pointed out. "What is it about her?"

Esme shook her head, but her eyes fell to me. They were sad, yet hopeful. "She's…a smart, beautiful sixteen, almost seventeen-year-old girl, and she's been through hell. If I had to guess, she's still in hell, she just doesn't see it. Her parents were…distant, practically cold, like they simply didn't care." She sighed deeply before going on. "Edward, before I let you see her, I'm going to tell you something. I didn't give much thought to Giselle's prediction…until I saw this girl. Everything you've ever drawn is right there. But it's more than that. It's as if she was made for you, son. She's absolutely stunning, except for that scar. She's kind and smart, but she plays the piano almost as well as you do."

Esme sat forward and grasped my face. Her mind opened to me like a flower in bloom, causing my breath to catch in my throat. The first thing I saw was the scar that had clouded my mind for decades. I never knew where it was, just the look of it slashed across perfect, creamy skin. But Esme was right; whoever had given the girl the scar had had nasty intentions. Next were her eyes – deep, soulful, knowing eyes. They were youthful eyes, yet they'd seen too much already. My caretaker, Collette, would've said Isabella Swan carried an old soul inside her.

Lastly, I took in Esme's memory of Bella at the piano. She was fluid and really, really good.

I soaked up every inch of the girl through Esme's mind. I was fascinated at finally seeing the owner of those dark eyes, and they were on a face that was equally as beautiful, framed by dark, mahogany curls. My first instinct was to say she was simply a good-looking teen girl, but that would've been wrong on so many levels.

I stood up quickly, clawing at my hair and starting to pace. "All the more reason for me to stay behind the scenes the next few years," I muttered, shaking my head.

"Edward, that's what I need to talk to you about," Esme said, standing up and walking to me. "I'd really like you as her piano instructor. As good as Mr. Harris is, she's way above his level. I think you should tutor her."

"No," I growled.

"You haven't shown your face to a student or staff member in over fifty years, son. You could pull this off," Esme reassured, placing her hands on my shoulders.

I was shaking my head the entire time she was talking.

"Why? Edward, what has you so adamant about this?" she asked.

My eyes left hers and drifted to Carlisle, only to look at the floor. "I don't want Giselle to be right. I don't want Leah to be right. There are…additions to the prediction, and things could end badly."

"Son, you don't know this is the same girl. It could be another student starting this year," Carlisle argued.

I rolled my eyes his way, and Esme chuckled.

"Her name is _Bella Swan_, Carlisle," I stated with a touch of fear and exasperation.

He grinned, patting my shoulder. "_Beautiful __swan_. Yes, I can see where that may be where everything comes together. Think about teaching the girl, son. If she's as good as Esme says, then she'll need to be challenged. You have the capability of doing that." His face sobered, though, and he asked, "What are these new additions Leah told you?"

I spent the next few minutes going over the things the old woman had said – the changes coming, the three death cards, how Giselle's original fortune was still there, and my red eyes she'd seen.

Both of them frowned at that last thing.

"No wonder you're a little apprehensive," Carlisle said softly, nodding a little. "And three deaths?" he verified, and I nodded. "I don't like the sound of that." He looked over at Esme. "I'm afraid I'm with Edward on this one. Let's just…see how things play out. No need to push anything. She may do well with Mr. Harris, you never know. In fact, let me speak with her before we make any decisions."

"Fair enough, Carlisle," Esme conceded, but I could see that she wasn't happy about it. She really liked the girl, which said a million more things about this Bella Swan than I was willing to admit.

They started to leave, but I called Carlisle back. "I think Leah's—"

"Sick," he finished for me. "Yes, I'm aware, though she won't let me help her. She's very stubborn. Like her grandmother."

Smiling sadly, I nodded. "So there's nothing we can do?"

"Oh, I haven't given up on her yet, son," he stated, and then he left out through my door.

**~oOo~**

**BELLA**

"This is us," Alice chirped, pointing to a door with the number thirteen on it. As she opened the door, she said, "This was my room last year. Though, I didn't have a roommate."

My brow wrinkled as I followed her inside. She chattered just enough that I didn't need to talk. And as we'd been in the limo on the way here, I could tell that she used her hyper, chatty ways to cover up something sad. It was in her eyes. They were a pretty mix of green and blue, but they'd darken if she got quiet.

She glanced over her shoulder, laughing softly. "My little talent isn't accepted by everyone. Some think I'm a freak."

I snorted, thinking that Mrs. Cullen may have put us together for a reason. I wasn't sure I bought the whole psychic thing, but she certainly believed it.

Our room was pretty, spacious, and split perfectly down the middle by a large bookcase. Each side had access to a window that overlooked the front courtyard, a small twin-size bed, and a desk. There was dark wood flooring, with thick red and tan rugs, dark wood on the walls, thick red curtains, and a bathroom for us to share. In some ways, it reminded me of Harry Potter's room at Hogwarts. But strangely enough, it felt…welcoming.

"You want the right or left side?" Alice asked, setting her things down. When I shrugged, she smiled. "If you don't care, I'll just take the left side again."

Nodding, I dragged my trunk to the right side of the room. I walked to the window, gazing out over the front courtyard. It was a dreary day, misty and cloudy. Down below, more cars were pulling up to bring more students. They seemed to range in ages from about fourteen to eighteen, if I'd had to guess. Some were hugging in greeting, some were yelling and laughing, obviously catching up from being away over the summer, and some looked as nervous and lost as I was.

I caught a glimpse of the guy who had driven us from the train station. Jacob Black was busy unloading trunks and suitcases, while off to the side was a guy painting the front door.

Alice appeared beside me. "By Sunday, everyone will be here. We'll have a walk-through of classes Monday." Her eyes gazed around the courtyard. "Jacob's pretty cool. He started last year…some long-lost son of the guy before him. He'd been away at college or some shit." She pointed toward the other guy. "Jasper, he's really hot, but kind of standoffish."

I chuckled, glancing over at her, but back to him. I was too far away to get a really good look at him, but from where I was on the third floor, I could see that he was tall, blond, and well-built.

"What?" she asked with a giggle. "You'll find that the student body is…lacking, Bella. Besides, older men are sexy."

Grinning, I shrugged a shoulder and turned to start unpacking. It didn't take long, and I was just about finished when there was a knock on our door. Alice practically danced across the room to open it, and she revealed a tall, stunning blonde girl.

"Hey, Rose," Alice greeted, stepping aside. "I heard you were made girls' dorm captain for your senior year." She pointed to me. "This is Bella Swan. She doesn't talk."

Rose smiled, which made her even prettier, and I noticed her eyes were a pale blue. "Yeah, I'm aware. I just saw Mrs. C. I'm Rosalie Hale." When I shook her hand, she glanced between us. "I'm just making sure you guys are all in." She faced me again. "If you'd like, I can give you a quick tour tonight before dinner, but I have a message for you from Mrs. Cullen. She said that you need to report to the infirmary tomorrow. Dr. Cullen will be expecting you."

I nodded that I heard her, but shifted nervously on my feet. I had kind of thought I'd get a reprieve from the doctor thing, but it seemed Mrs. Cullen had been serious.

"Hey," Rose said softly. "We've all seen him at least once. He's a really mellow kinda guy. You'll like him."

I smiled at her reassurance and nodded her way.

"Good. Okay, then, so come down to room one around five, and I'll give you a quick tour of the place before we head down to the dining hall. No need for uniforms yet. Not 'til Monday."

She left us to finish settling in, and Alice started telling me about Rose. She apparently had started at Masen her tenth grade year. It was well known that she was dating Emmett McCarty, who just happened to have been placed as the boys' dorm captain. According to Alice, they were like the All-American perfect couple. Both gorgeous, both coming from wealthy families, and both were going on to Dartmouth when they graduated. She also said there was a rumor that Rosalie had come from an abusive home and that she'd come here to get away from it, but she wasn't quite sure that was true, that there were plenty of rumors around the castle about everyone.

By the time all my clothes were in their drawers and hanging up on my side of the closet, my books put away, and my journal locked in my nightstand, it was time to head down to Rosalie's room. Alice went with me, stating that she'd simply keep me company.

I wasn't the only one at Rose's door when we got to the end of the long hall. There were a couple of girls already there. It was obvious that two were younger than I was, and one looked to be about my age, with dark hair and glasses.

Rose came out of her room, looking like a runway model in simple jeans and a sweater. It would've been intimidating had she not been so nice.

"Okay, introductions. Angela Weber, sophomore," she said, pointing to the girl I'd assumed was my age. "Bree Tanner and Lauren Mallory, both freshmen," she said, pointing to the younger girls, one with really long hair, the other looking like a pampered brat with a scowl on her face. "And Isabella Swan, junior. Oh, and Alice Brandon…also junior, but she's not new, just…nosey."

Alice giggled, shrugged a shoulder. "Call it new student support."

"Whatever," Rose said with a laugh. "C'mon. We're meeting Emmett so that we can give the new guys the tour at the same time."

We turned down a few corridors, coming out to see a group of boys waiting at the end. A giant of a guy was leaning against the wall. When he saw us, his face lit up, allowing the biggest of grins to grace his features. That grin showed off dimples and straight teeth, which took away from his large, almost intimidating form. His eyes were the same color as my own, but warm and happy. Had I seen him at my old school, I would've assumed he played sports – especially football. He was built for it.

"Rosie," he cheered. "You wanna sing this song, or shall I?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes, blushing a little, but she smiled anyway. "You love the sound of your own voice, Emmett, so get on with it."

"Excellent." He turned toward the boys. "We've only got a couple new guys so far, but I think a few more will show up before Monday. Eric Yorkie, sophomore. Tyler Crowley, junior. And Brady Campbell, freshman."

Eric was a tiny thing, nervous and twitchy. Tyler looked sure of himself, almost cocky. And Brady had a sweet baby face, though he looked a little anxious.

Once everyone knew everyone else's name, Emmett took the lead and started talking. He showed us where all the classrooms were – math, science, history, English, and foreign language. He stopped in a trophy room, which displayed a few of Masen Academy's past student achievements. At the end of a long hall, Emmett opened a set of double doors, revealing an auditorium. On the stage was a gorgeous black grand piano.

"Music and drama room. Not to mention, this is where you guys will come when there are student assemblies," Emmett explained, but he caught my gaze, which was locked onto the stage. "You play?"

I nodded, smiling up at him.

"Awesome! There are a handful of students that do. Mr. Harris is the new music teacher, but he seems cool," Emmett told me. "Personally, I can't play music for shit. Fat fingers."

Giggling at him, I shook my head. Emmett, like Rose, was super-easy to like, but I had a question, which left me no choice but to speak.

"Can…we?" I sputtered, pointing toward the stage.

"What? Can you practice?" he asked, and I nodded. "Oh, yeah. Whenever it's not being used, and as long as you're not out of bed at night or whatever…sure. You can come practice. Every now and then, I hear someone really early in the morning. Though, it's been a while since I heard that," he muttered to himself. "Maybe they graduated or some shit. Anyway, let's keep going."

We turned back toward the main hall, and he stopped us in front of a door.

"Teacher's lounge."

He kept going, but all of us looked down the hall at the sounds of a door opening and then some giggling. A girl with light brown hair and a guy with overly gelled, highlighted hair, stumbled into the corridor, both looking a little rumpled. I could only guess as to what they'd been doing.

"Newton!" Emmett snapped, his face reddening, which caused the couple to freeze like deer in headlights. "You know the east wing is off limits. Get to the dining hall. Both of you. If you're lucky, I won't mention this to Mrs. C."

"We got lost," the girl said, smirking at Emmett.

"Lost, my ass, Jessica. Just get out of my face, will ya?" Emmett grumbled, but he turned to face us all once the couple had left. "Guys, it _is_ easy to get turned around in this place, but if a door says 'No Admittance,' then leave it alone. Most of the time, they're locked. Why this one wasn't, I have no idea. The east wing is messed up and under construction, though no one's touched it in ages. Something about permits or whatever." He waved a hand in the air. "Anyway, it's a safety thing. You could get hurt in there. One kid broke his leg in the east wing about five years ago. The stairs crumbled underneath him."

"Never mind that the rumors say it's haunted back there," Alice piped up.

Emmett grinned. "There's that. I've heard strange shit myself, and I saw Newton busted once. Someone left the door opened when they were tearing him a new one. The place is pretty messed up, and you can tell no one's been in there in like forever."

"Is it haunted?" Angela asked, her eyes wide, but no one looked more nervous than Eric, who'd paled at the mention of it.

"Maybe," Rose stated, shrugging a shoulder. "You never know what's in these old castles. This place has been standing since before the Civil War."

"Which brings us to the main stairs," Emmett transitioned, pointing to a staircase. "This will lead you to the dining hall, front doors, and the library."

He led us down to the large foyer, which put us right inside by the front main doors.

On one side, the library doors stood propped open. Above the doorway, a plaque stated, "The Elizabeth Masen Library."

"The library was named after Masen's wife. Apparently, she died in this room," Emmett said with a wicked grin. "Old ass ghost stories that float around here are crazy. Anyway, the library is open until just about an hour before curfew. Don't eat in there, 'cause Mrs. C will flip out. Otherwise, it's well-stocked and the internet works in there, as well as in your dorms."

We all stepped just inside the doors. The library was stunning and old and dark. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined every wall and created aisles, with a few tables scattered here and there. Off to the left was an enormous fireplace that, at the moment, wasn't lit. In front of that were several velvety red sofas and chairs.

"Now the dining hall," Emmett stated, pointing across the foyer.

Inside the dining hall, tables were already filling with students and what looked like some teachers, too. It looked like any other school lunchroom, with plenty of tables, except this one had hardwood floors and walls. At the far back was the serving line, and the smells reminded me that I'd barely eaten lunch earlier. However, my eyes were drawn to the large portrait of a man that loomed over the large room. He looked cold, hardened. Captured in what I'd guess to be oil was Edward Masen Sr., or so it said on the plaque beneath the frame. His hair was dark brown, his face had a sharp jawline, and his eyes were a piercing green. For a moment, I wondered why the son would open the school in that guy's honor and not his own. Mr. Masen gave off a mean vibe, simply from his picture. I couldn't imagine that he was a teacher.

Emmett told us the same story that Mrs. Cullen had told me on the trip here, that the school had been opened by Edward Masen Jr. in honor of his father, who'd died in 1901.

"That's it, guys," Emmett said, clapping his hands softly together once. "If you need anything or have questions, come see me or Rosie. Otherwise, welcome to Masen…and eat up!"

I hesitated before stepping into a room with so many people. A chill ran up my spine, and I turned around to gaze about the front foyer. No one was there, but I felt like I was being watched. Though, closer inspection of the dining hall showed that most of the people already eating were shooting curious glances our way, most likely because we were the new kids.

Alice tugged on my sleeve. "You comin'?"

With one more glance behind me, I nodded and followed her inside.

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Yes, before you ask…Rose and Emmett are human. And they aren't a huge part of the story, but they're needed. And you guys finally met one of my favorite characters from this fic…Leah. ;) I adore that no filter having, take no prisoners old woman! LOL**

**Questions: I know you guys were mainly concerned with Phil and Renee. I promise all questions/concerns/fears will be addressed when it comes to what happened to Bella and Charlie. It's really why we're here. ;) Though I will tell you not all is as it appears…remember, it's Bella's POV. **

**Someone asked where the teasers can be found… You can follow me on Twitter or FB and see them. I'll be posting pic teasers on Thursdays. All links can be found on my profile.**

**Don't forget to check out JenRar's new fic **_**A Light in the Darkness**_**. It's a beautiful fic set in a traumatic time, but it's really well written. She updates every Wednesday. ;)**

**So I'll see you guys for Thursday's teaser and then Sunday for the update. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N… I honestly don't have words for you guys. I'm completely overwhelmed by the love you're showing. I can't thank you guys enough. :D**

**See me at the bottom. I'll answer a question or two. I'll let you get to it; this chapter deals with several important points…**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 4**

**August 2001**

**BELLA**

The infirmary was just down a long hallway from the dining hall, and the path was quiet on a Saturday morning. I left behind the school side and entered into more of the administration offices. I passed by a woman at a desk, typing away at a computer, and found the door with Dr. Cullen's name on the outside, knocking lightly.

A man's voice sounded from the other side. "Come in."

Opening the door slowly, I peeked in. Standing at a desk with a file in his hand was an extremely good-looking man, with blond hair and hazel, almost golden eyes. His smile was warm, friendly, reminding me of Mrs. Cullen.

"Ah, you must be Isabella Swan," he greeted, walking to me. "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Please, come on in." He sat down behind his desk after gesturing to one of the chairs in front of it. "Have a seat. My wife says you prefer the name Bella. Is that correct?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Very good. Bella it is," he said with a smile. He set the file folder down and rested his elbows on the desk. "I'm not here to give you a physical. All your charts seem in order. Mrs. Cullen simply wanted me to talk to you, see if there was anything that I could maybe do for you or see something that perhaps someone had missed." He chuckled when I shook my head, frowning in confusion. "Can you humor me, Bella? My wife wants to make sure you're okay to start class on Monday, but she also wants to make sure that the teachers are aware of your situation, and in order to do that, I need to make an assessment."

He stood up from the desk and walked around to me. "I'm not going to force you to speak with me if it makes you uncomfortable, Bella. I would, however, like to take a look at you. Do you mind?"

I shook my head no and stood up in front of him. I was used to doctors being curious and looking me over, and Dr. Cullen was just like his wife: very comfortable for me to be around.

"Good," he praised, tilting my head just a little so that he could examine my scar. His touch was gentle, cool, but the room wasn't exactly warm. "I see they did their best to make the scar as minimal as possible, but according to your file, the stitches ripped? Nightmare, if I'm not mistaken."

I nodded, and he waited for me to sit back down before taking his place back behind the desk.

"Like I said, I won't make you speak, but I have some questions. I'll do my best to keep them yes or no," he told me, leaning forward. "The nightmares have subsided?"

I tilted my hand back and forth that answered him as "so, so."

"So you still have them," he surmised, and I nodded in answer. "Just not all the time."

I nodded again.

He glanced down at the file, turning a few pages. "When you received this injury, I'm assuming you were prevented from speaking, yes?" When I nodded, he did, too. "Your vocal chords weren't severed, but they were rather damaged, so not talking would've been best in order to allow you to heal. Okay, then… Did your parents put you in counseling afterward? I could imagine that you'd need grief counseling and speech therapy."

Frowning, I nodded, but spoke anyway. "It didn't work," I whispered nervously, gazing down at my hands in my lap.

He smiled warmly again when I glanced up. "That's okay. Everyone deals with traumatic experiences differently. With what you've been through – the loss of a parent and your injury – I can't imagine it has been easy. And thank you for answering me; I know you're nervous and uncomfortable speaking aloud."

At the mention of my dad, I shook my head and looked away. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to discuss it. I fought the tears in my eyes.

"My apologies, Bella," Dr. Cullen said, his voice filled with a sadness I wasn't expecting. When I waved him off, he sighed deeply. "No, truly, I _am_ sorry. My intentions weren't to upset you. I have more questions, but we can stop."

I shook my head vehemently.

"Okay, if you're sure." He waited for me to nod before going on. "I'm sure you've heard it all, Bella, but my guess is…you didn't speak much in therapy, therefore you truly haven't released the grief and anger inside you. You haven't talked through it."

I'd heard that theory before, so I simply shrugged. It was the reason one of the therapists had suggested writing in a journal.

"Do you remember that night, Bella?"

"Some," I whispered, frowning again.

He nodded, like he'd assumed as much. "Understandable. Considering your age and how long it's been, it makes complete sense that you would've forgotten some of the events, or even blocked them out."

Again, I shrugged, because I didn't have an answer, but I'd heard it before when doctors would speak with my mother.

"One more, sweetheart, and I promise we're done," he vowed firmly, yet gently. "Bella…was anyone brought to justice for the whole thing?"

My gaze snapped to his, my eyes burning with tears. "No!"

My voice came out louder than I'd expected, and I gasped and started shaking. I rarely raised my voice above a whisper. What he didn't know was that was my nightmares. I was completely aware that no fingerprints, witnesses, or suspects had been found during the investigation. My father's killer, my _would-be_ killer, was still free, and it scared me to no end. I'd simply learned to live with it.

"Easy, Bella. Deep breaths," he soothed, kneeling next to me. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm so sorry. Stay with me. Look at me, Bella."

I locked eyes with golden eyes. They were strange, yet so calm and soothing. Dr. Cullen's face was actually very handsome, seemingly young, but he came across as very wise. He was also extremely worried…and looked to be angry.

"When I tell you that no harm will ever come to you inside this castle, would you believe me?" he asked me firmly. "I promise that you're safe. Do you understand?"

I nodded fervently, finally able to take a breath and let it out slowly, because there was a part of me that could see that Dr. Cullen meant every word he was saying. And oddly enough, I believed him.

When I nodded one more time, he smiled and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Good." He stood up in front of me. "Bella, my wife will make sure that all your instructors are aware of your condition. She's making allowances for your lack of verbal participation. What that means is that some of your teachers may have you write your assignments instead of speaking. You'll be scored as if you'd given your reports orally. Make sense?"

I nodded in understanding. It was how I'd been graded at my last school. My mother had gotten doctors' notes to excuse me from any oral work, like book reports, debate classes, and the like.

"Before you go, I'd like you to do me a favor, Bella," he requested as I stood up. "If you have any problems, I'd like you to feel free to come to me. Even if you just sit quietly for a little while. And Mrs. Cullen asked to extend that invitation to her office, as well. Okay?"

Smiling up at him, I nodded, placing my hand over my heart as a vow.

"Good girl," he said with a soft laugh. "You may go now. And good luck your first week of classes."

I waved at him over my shoulder and left his office.

**~oOo~**

The first day of classes was different than anything I'd ever experienced. It was my first time with a uniform, which wasn't too bad: red and black plaid skirt, white button-down shirt, and a black cardigan.

Alice and I went down to the dining hall for breakfast together. She was as chatty as always, and it turned out to be a good thing, because the more she talked, the less people bugged us. Though, I kind of assumed she knew that. Alice's little talent was interesting to say the least, and I still wasn't sure I believed it, especially so early in the morning.

She scooted closer to me, stirring her oatmeal without looking at it. She was staring off across the dining hall with narrowed eyes.

"Dammit," she sighed, looking up to me. "Brace yourself. Mike Newton's taken an interest in you, but that's not the worst part." When my eyebrows shot up, she snorted humorlessly. "His interest in you seems to have pissed off Jessica Stanley." She turned in her seat to face me. "Look, they think their shit doesn't stink, Bella. They can be really fuckin' mean."

I chuckled softly. She didn't know mean. I'd seen it all in my old school. People who had been my friends suddenly weren't, and they'd said the nastiest of things, spread the worst rumors, and constantly tried to play pranks on me. Some of the latter I'd been able to avoid, but not always.

I glanced up when Mike strolled across the dining hall like he owned it. He wore some sort of crooked smile that made it seem like he was trying too hard, when in reality, it looked like he needed to go to the bathroom.

His hand shot out once he made it to the table. "Mike Newton."

I looked to Alice, who was rolling her eyes, but she helped me out. "Bella Swan, and she doesn't talk, Mike. Go away."

"Shut it, psycho," he snapped.

"It's _psychic_, you asshat," she countered. "She really doesn't speak, so this dumbass thing you're doing will fail."

Looking to Mike, I shrugged a shoulder apologetically, but like everyone else, his eyes fell to my throat. His eyes widened, and he turned to Alice.

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know, nor is it anyone's business. Go away," she said to him, taking a bite of her oatmeal. "_Messica_ is about to lose her shit. You might wanna go clean up on aisle two."

"She'd smack you for calling her that."

"I'd like to see her try," Alice purred with a wicked smile, taking another bite. "She's tried before. I always see it coming." She tapped her temple and turned back to me. "C'mon, Bella. We need to get to class."

"God, Brandon, you're such a freak," he snorted, shaking his head, but he stopped laughing when I raised my eyebrow at him and snatched up my backpack.

We stood up and threw our trash away, but Mike caught up with me.

"Yo, Bella, I'll see you 'round, 'kay?" he said, grinning like a loon, and he shot me a wink. "You should stay away from _psycho_ here; she'll only drag you down."

I rolled my eyes to Alice, who laughed, linking our arms together. I wasn't sure what to make of the guy, because if Alice was a freak, then what the hell did that make me? I shook my head and pushed my way by him, dragging Alice with me.

"Good, I was hoping you wouldn't fall for that creepazoid's shit," she said softly, and we both watched as Mike and Jessica walked by us, the latter looking pissed off. "And don't worry about Messica. I dubbed her that for a reason."

Grinning, I glanced over to her for an explanation.

"She's a hot fucking _mess_, that's why," Alice answered my silent question. "She and Mike are friends with benefits. Hell, I'm not even sure they're really friends to start with, but whatever… She's a spoiled little rich girl from D.C. Daddy's some big-wig congressman or some shit. She and Mike hook up all the damn time, but then they fight all the damn time, too. It's insane, and rather unhealthy, if I'm being honest."

That last part came out mumbled, but I chuckled at her, which made her smile as she guided me into the first class of the day: biology.

When Mrs. Cullen said that the classes were small, she hadn't been exaggerating. Depending on the subject, some grades were combined, which still made for the smallest class I'd ever attended.

Alice was with me through most of them, though we were taking different foreign languages. She was taking French, while I was taking Spanish. However, we shared the same history, calculus, biology, and English Lit classes, all of which seemed much more in-depth than the ones I'd taken in public school.

Every teacher, though, seemed to react differently to me. Some merely ignored my existence, while others over-compensated by keeping me after to explain what would be required of me. Calculus, biology, and history had no oral reports, but English and Spanish did, so those two teachers stopped me to give me schedules of what I'd need to turn in.

As I'd expected, I was the target of a lot of curiosity. Stares and whispers followed me all day, and by the time I made it to my room at the end of the day, I was a touch grumpy and exhausted. Thanks to Mike and Jessica, the rumors had already started.

I tossed my backpack onto my bed, falling down next to it.

"That bad?" I heard, and I glanced up to see Alice there with a grimace on her face. When I shrugged grumpily, she sighed. "Yeah, I've heard the talk already. At a school this small, you can't really stop it."

I waved it away, falling back on my bed. When I felt the bed dip, I glanced over at Alice.

"One rumor is that you _can_ speak, but you don't like to," she said softly.

Sitting up next to her, I nodded, but swallowed nervously. "I can, Alice, but…" My voice was barely above a whisper.

Alice's face lit up, and she hugged me out of the blue. "No worries. I wasn't pushing. It's all good. We can pass notes if we have to."

Smiling, I nodded.

"Listen, I need to start some homework already. Wanna head down to the library?" she asked, and I nodded again, reaching for my backpack. "When we're done, we'll grab dinner."

I followed her down the hall and the main stairs. Once inside the library, Alice found us a table in the corner and set her stuff down. I got started on my Spanish homework while she went off in search for a book she needed. I glanced up when a shadow loomed over me, but smiled at Rose, gesturing to the chair.

"Hey, Bella," she greeted as she set her books down. She sat down across from me, asking, "How was your first day?" She grimaced, her hand smacking her forehead. "Shit, my bad…I forget you don't speak. Umm, was your first day okay?" she asked with a grin. "I swear, Emmett's verbal vomit is rubbing off on me."

I laughed softly at her rambling and nodded to answer her, but pulled a piece of paper out to write her a note.

_Don't worry about it. And my day was fine…overwhelming, but fine._

She smiled. "It can be a bit much on your first day." She pointed toward the shelves. "I'll be back. I need to grab a couple of books."

I nodded and went back to my homework. Alice and Rose came and went with different books, but I was alone at the table when I finished up, so I decided to pull out my journal. Whispers met my ears, and I glanced up to see Mike looking my way, but instead of Jessica with him, there were a couple of boys, one of whom I recognized from Emmett and Rose's tour. Tyler.

They didn't even bother to lower their voices when they spoke about me.

"What do you mean she doesn't talk? You mean she's shy, right?" Tyler asked in a harsh whisper. "She was quiet on Emmett's tour, but…"

"No, man, she doesn't _speak_," Mike told him. "And that scar on her neck is probably the reason. What do you think? Attempted suicide gone wrong?"

"Maybe she was raped at knife-point," Tyler suggested. "I've seen that shit on TV, you know? And just how the hell can someone get through life without talkin'? You need to talk to do…well, everything!"

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, focusing on my journal. I'd certainly heard worse theories over the years. I tuned them out and started writing.

_Hey Daddy… I got through my first day at Masen. The work is different, harder, but so far, I think I'll do okay. I'm looking forward to playing the piano later this week, but right now, I simply don't have time. They have me allotted for a Mr. Harris after class on Friday, so we'll see how it goes. I may try to sneak down to the auditorium to practice before then. I hope I can, anyway._

_I've made a friend. Alice. She doesn't seem to care that I don't talk. She's my roommate and in most of my classes. You'd like her, Dad. She's a tiny thing. Spunky. And she seems to think she can see the future. I don't know about that, but she's pretty accepting of me. It's been a long time since I could call someone a friend._

_There's also another girl, Rose. She's my dorm captain. She's really nice, too, so far._

_A part of me is glad to know that they're okay with me. Another part feels weak, vulnerable. I have a hard time forgetting just how bad things turned out with Maggie. We'd been friends since the first grade, but suddenly, she turned on me. I don't know if I can face that again, Dad. It really hurt the last time. If that happens here, then I still have to live in the same room with Alice for the rest of the year._

_The rumors have already started, but I'm trying to ignore them. A part of me wishes I was like everyone else, that I could chat away like Alice to anyone, despite their opinions of me. And Rose seems to be able to walk into any room and own it. I just can't do that. I don't know how._

_I was forced to see the school doctor on Saturday before classes started. He asked about you, about my voice, and if anyone was ever arrested for what they did to us. I got scared, Daddy, but Dr. Cullen promised me that I was safe here, that no one would get to me here. I want to believe __him – I__ really __do – but__ again, knowing that the men who did this are still out there makes me feel weak, small._

Alice rushed to the table, her eyes wide. "If you want to avoid another run-in with Newton, you'd better haul ass. He's about to come over here." When my eyebrows rose up, she nodded. "Why don't you take our stuff to our room, and I'll save you a seat in the dining hall."

Nodding, I packed up my things at the same time she did. She handed me her bag, grabbing my sleeve. "Take the back stairs up, turn left on the third floor. It'll be quicker, and you'll most likely miss him."

I shouldered both bags and snatched up my journal. I wasn't quite through writing in it, so I thought I'd bring it with me to dinner. I followed her directions and deposited our things just inside our door. However, when I exited the girls' dorm, I could see Newton looking for me. Turning right instead of left, I made my way down the corridor, turning again and again.

Footsteps caught up with me, so without thinking, I ducked behind a tapestry, holding my breath. As male voices and heavy footsteps raced by, the wall I was leaning against gave way, and I stumbled a few steps back, though it wasn't a wall I'd been leaning against. It was an unlocked door.

The first thing I registered was the stale smell of the room, but there was also a faint touch of spice or woodsy scent that lingered. When I turned around, my mouth fell open. I had to have stumbled into the east wing, because there was dust and destruction everywhere. Large open windows allowed the setting sunlight to illuminate broken stairs leading up to somewhere dark. There were holes in the walls, a destroyed fireplace mantle, and shattered floorboards. But my heart broke into a million pieces at what was in the middle of the room: a busted piano.

I couldn't tell how old it was, but it was truly an antique. The legs were bent and broken at an odd angle, the cherry finish was cracking, peeling, and fading, and there were several broken or missing keys. I could well imagine that in its day, it had been beautiful, but now it had to be the saddest thing I'd ever seen.

I shook my head, setting my journal down on the top. My fingers traced ever so lightly over the wood, then the keys. Tears welled up in my eyes, simply because it seemed like such a crime against an instrument I loved so much. One of my tears fell to one of the keys at the same time I heard shuffling at the doorway I'd fallen into. Or was it behind me? I glanced around, seeing nothing but shadows and debris, until a booming voice made me jump.

"Newton!"

I recognized Emmett's voice, and I rushed quietly to the door I'd stumbled in, pushing it closed until I heard steps moving away.

"Dude, come with me," he ordered, and I peeked out around the tapestry. "I'm not gonna tell you again about that east wing, so I'll let Mrs. C do it for me. You too, Crowley. Let's go."

I waited for them to turn the corner before leaving the east wing and stepping back out into the main hall. Just as I remembered my journal, Angela appeared around the corner that Emmett, Mike, and Tyler had turned. My heart sank, and I gave the secret door a glance before faking a smile her way.

"Hey, Bella. Boy, that Mike guy's in trouble," she said with a giggle, jerking a thumb behind her. "I'm heading down to dinner. Wanna walk with me?"

I cast one last glance over my shoulder at the same time I nodded, memorizing the tapestry so that I could come back later to grab my journal. The thought of it just hanging around there where anyone could stumble upon it scared me to death.

Angela joined Alice and me at our table. She was really sweet, almost shy, but she was yet another person that didn't seem to mind that I didn't talk. I ate, silently answering anything that was asked of me, but my mind was on getting back up to the east wing. When it came time to leave, Alice gripped my shirt once Angela bid us good night.

"You can't go tonight," she said cryptically. "You'll never get past everyone into the east wing."

My mouth gaped at her, but she nodded.

"I mean it. You have to do it after breakfast and before class in the morning. The hallways will be deserted. Got me?" she asked.

"How'd you…?" I whispered, narrowing my eyes at her, but she smiled a little, tapping her temple. Rather than tempt it, I sagged in defeat.

The next morning, though, she was a huge help. She told me exactly when to leave the dining hall, and she was completely right. The corridor was empty as I hurried to the hanging material in the corner. With a glance behind me, I dove back behind the tapestry, finding the door still cracked the way I'd left it.

The room was exactly the same, the smell exactly the same, only the lighting was a little different. It was a touch lighter, seeing as how the rising sun seemed to shine directly through the large windows facing the back courtyard. However, the shadows at the top of the stairs seemed darker, creepier, and I swore something moved up there. My first thought was rat or ghost.

Shaking that last silly thought out of my head, I smiled when my journal was exactly where I'd left it: on top of the poor ruined piano. I picked it up, hugging it to my chest, and gave the sad instrument a longing touch before quickly turning around.

Adjusting my backpack, I peeked out into the hallway, exiting the east wing. It wasn't until I sat down next to Alice, who was wearing a smug smile, that I opened my journal, just to make sure it was intact. I looked at my last entry, thinking of jotting a few more things down, but my heart stopped. My entry wasn't the last thing written.

There was an entry just below mine, in the most beautiful script I'd ever seen.

_You're not weak. And you are safe here._

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

I was in my own personal hell.

Bella Swan was everything Esme had said she was and everything that Giselle had promised…and then some. I'd been unable to stop myself from taking the tour with the new students, only I'd taken it just on the other side of a thick stone wall.

I'd caught glimpses of her through Rosalie Hale's and Emmett McCarty's minds. They liked Bella, sympathized with her. Though, Rosalie had more reason to respect Bella than anyone. They had very similar backgrounds.

Every mind, from Lauren, the disgruntled freshman, to the rather egotistical Tyler, had noticed Bella. Most noted the scar that slashed across her throat. One girl, Angela, had had a sweet, concerned mind. Quirky little Alice Brandon, whose mind was always a colorful blend of present and future, found Bella to be a chance at new friend, which they both needed terribly. But every last one of them noticed her beauty. And she was exactly that: a beauty.

I'd been able to hide in the shadows in complete stillness. The pull, the draw to go to her, was something that was unnerving. I'd merely wanted to _see_ her. I'd only wanted to sate my curiosity, but it had backfired. Seeing those deep brown eyes in person – the eyes that had haunted me for a hundred years – ruined me.

Bella had been nervous, which was to be expected in a new environment, but she'd also been taking everything in around her with those wide, open, curious eyes. She was small in stature, no more than a few inches over five feet, with long dark hair that glinted with a touch of deep red in certain lighting. It was her smile that was breathtaking. It hadn't appeared often during the dorm captain's tour of the castle, but when it had, I'd almost fallen to my knees at the power of it.

And she was completely and utterly silent. Not only did she never open her mouth to speak, but I couldn't hear her thoughts. Her mind was closed to me, which made my decision to avoid her a good one. With Leah's predictions of death and red eyes, the only thing I could put together was that something happened to my _beautiful swan_. If I couldn't hear what she was thinking, then there was no way I could approach her. I couldn't allow it. I wouldn't and shouldn't. It wasn't a chance I was willing to take.

My last sight of her that first evening had been through the shadows of the library. The group of new students had been about to make their way into the dining hall. I'd stopped breathing altogether when she'd glared back into the library, almost in the direction I'd been standing, before Alice had dragged her into the dining hall. It was as if she'd sensed me, felt someone's eyes on her.

I'd hidden away in the east wing the rest of the night. No one had bothered me, though I'd heard their worry…and curiosity. They wanted to know if Giselle – and Leah, for that matter – had been right after all this time.

It was Carlisle's meeting with Bella that destroyed me. It was so very wrong to eavesdrop, and even worse to witness through Carlisle's mind what should be a private consultation. But I knew what he was going to ask her, and there wasn't anything that could've stopped me from taking the dark hallway to his storage room.

My eyes drank her in, my mind begging to hear her – thoughts or voice – but I received neither for the first few minutes of their talk. Her heartbeat said she was nervous, but her smile and her actions were polite and kind. Normally, her blood would've been the first thing I'd have noticed, but I was shocked when it was last on the list. Bella had a floral scent about her, but there was no enticement, no need to drink that came with the scent of humans. It was always there, and I always ignored it, but with her, it simply didn't exist.

She liked Carlisle – it was clear to see that – but I watched when his mind went from concerned physician to protective parent. She'd won him over in less than twenty minutes.

He vowed to her that he wouldn't force her to speak, but something inside me reared up feral and ugly when he touched her. He examined her scar with nothing but a clinical eye, but he'd heard the low growl behind him.

_Son, you shouldn't be here,_ he chastised, but made no request to me to leave. _You may not like what you hear._

Shamed at being caught, I stayed anyway.

He knew her chart inside and out, so when he eyed the scar, he already knew the facts about it, though he asked her anyway. During her attack, she'd been cut from one side to the other, and the doctors tending to her had given her small stitches in order to minimize the scarring, which would've probably worked, except that a few days later, she'd been having a nightmare, which had resulted in her trying to claw those same stitches out with her bare hands. It was why the scar was so prominent, why it was jagged.

Carlisle asked her about therapy and counseling, and I could've sworn an angel spoke when her sweet voice finally…_finally_ met the air.

"It didn't work," she whispered, grimacing at him. Speaking made her heartbeat skyrocket into something that sounded like hummingbird wings.

He thanked her for speaking when she didn't have to, when he knew it made her uncomfortable, but when he mentioned the loss of her father, her fear was practically palpable. It stepped into the room like another entity. It was at that moment that Carlisle stopped being a doctor and everything in him wanted to protect her.

He apologized profusely and sincerely, asking if she wanted to stop. She didn't, which told me she was stronger than most people gave her credit for.

"Okay, if you're sure," he told her, finally giving his theory on her. "I'm sure you've heard it all, Bella, but my guess is…you didn't speak much in therapy, therefore you truly haven't released the grief and anger inside you. You haven't talked through it."

Her shrug made me smile, and my guess was that she'd probably heard it all since the incident. However, Carlisle's next thoughts of the questions he was going to ask her made me frown. I wanted to stop him, not because I didn't think she could handle it, but because I didn't think _I_ could.

"Do you remember that night, Bella?"

"Some." Her voice was tentative, soft, and very wary.

"Understandable. Considering your age and how long it's been, it makes complete sense that you would've forgotten some of the events, or even blocked them out."

Bella shrugged again, but her shoulders hunched in a way that said she didn't like talking about any of it. Carlisle, at this point, was damn sure that she'd blocked out some of the events in order to simply survive.

"One more, sweetheart, and I promise we're done. Bella…was anyone brought to justice for the whole thing?"

"No!"

"Carlisle," I growled low in warning, but it was loud enough that he could hear me. It was inexplicable, my need to protect this girl that I hadn't even met. Her pounding heartbeat echoed in my ears, her breathing was shallow and weak, and her brow broke out into a sweat, but it was the salty tears that hurt me to my very bones. Bella was having a panic attack.

Carlisle calmed her, soothed her, and vowed to her that she was completely safe at Masen Manor. I wasn't sure that was true, considering what I was and how drawn to her I'd already become, but he wasn't lying to her when he told her those monsters that had tried to take her life wouldn't come near her while she was here. That was the damn truth. They'd find themselves six feet under if they tried to touch her. And my mental vow mirrored Carlisle's.

Once she'd calmed down, he offered her a place of solace in his office, though Esme had told him the same thing, which he also told Bella.

The moment she left his office, I needed out of the castle, away from it all. I kept to the hidden passageways all the way to the underground tunnel that led out to the woods. Before I could change my mind and fall at her feet, I left the castle grounds at the fastest run I could manage.

I hunted – almost over hunted – but finally collapsed down onto a fallen tree next to a lake. I stayed there until the sun set. The night was warm and still, making the water look like glass.

I heard Carlisle's mind before he appeared next to me. He sat down at my side, placing a hand on my shoulder. His thoughts were filled with concern for me, curious as to what had sent me from the school so quickly, and overflowing with his talk with Bella.

Gazing out over the water, I sighed. "It's true," I stated firmly, so softly that no human would've ever heard it, but Carlisle did.

His eyes were on me. "What's true, son?"

Meeting his warm gaze, I opened my mouth to speak, only to snap it closed. My hands balled up into fists, my eyes closed briefly, and I glanced out across the water again.

"She's my mate," I murmured.

Carlisle squeezed my shoulder. "You're sure?"

Nodding, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. "I feel it. It's the same pull I see in your mind for Esme. It's all I can do not to run to her, Carlisle."

"Yet you come here," he said, mirroring my position by leaning forward.

I gaped at him. "She's only _sixteen_! She's so damn young, and she's been through hell! What would you have me do? You think she'd fare any better with me?"

He snickered softly, shaking his head. "I thought the same with Esme. She was too young when I first laid eyes on her. I had to step away, or really, I suppose I waited for her."

Blinking at him, I saw his mind. He had faith in me, and he knew that a few years was a blink of an eye to us. I'd already waited a hundred years for the idea of her to materialize, so a few more would be nothing. Above all, though, he wished for my happiness.

"But at what cost?" I asked him.

He sighed deeply. "I don't know."

"She's so broken," I murmured, feeling my chest constrict at the thought of what Bella had been through already at such a young age.

"Not broken. Perhaps a little damaged," he countered firmly. "She's extraordinary. She was left for dead, yet pulled through. Her strength is her biggest ally, though she probably doesn't see it. Her inability to speak aloud, which causes her to become nervous, makes her feel weak. It's written all over her face when she actually does it."

Nodding in agreement, I said, "All the more reason for me to leave her alone, Carlisle."

Smiling at me, he squeezed my shoulder. "Maybe." He chuckled at my narrowed gaze. "Edward, you say she's your mate, you say you're already drawn to her, and I see a light in your eyes already – something that wasn't there before. I'd be willing to bet that her blood held no flavor to you." He laughed when my eyes went wide. "That alone tells me she's your mate, but son, you need to ask yourself this… If she's already changed _you_, then imagine what you could do for _her_."

I shook my head, but he stood up from our log.

With one last squeeze to my shoulder, he simply said, "Think about it."

I did exactly as he asked. In fact, all I could do was think about it for the next day. I had gotten no further in changing my mind about stepping into her life come the first day of classes. I kept tabs on Bella through the minds of students, teachers, and staff. She quietly worked her way through the day, with a tiny, all-seeing Alice at her side.

My east wing was two floors above the library, so from there, I could hear everything that went on down there. I was amazed that Alice could predict Mike Newton's behavior, only it honestly wasn't that hard. He was an arrogant boy, thinking himself to be a ladies man, when really, he simply knew exactly what to say to get his way. Bella escaped the library to the girls' dorms, and I lost track of her.

Turning back to my computer, I tried to focus on the accounting spreadsheet in front of me, but all the numbers seemed to blur. Pulling up a search engine, I barely registered my fingers as they typed against my will.

_Charles and Isabella Swan, Boston, Massachusetts_

I hit enter, closing my eyes before opening them again. There were a few articles, the same ones that Esme had read in Bella's home. The case was considered a cold one, simply because there had been no leads, no evidence, and no witnesses. Charles Swan had been an understandable target, considering his career as a judge. My guess was that he had more enemies than he could shake a stick at, but according to his record, he was an upstanding man, clean of any illegal activities. He'd never allowed bribery or blackmail to get in his way of doing the right thing.

One article stated that the evidence pointed to a simple break-in. It seemed they'd woken a thirteen-year-old Bella up sometime around midnight. She'd instantly run to her father, and that had been the big mistake. She'd walked in on his murder, so the attackers had tried to end her life as well. The whole scene had been discovered by her mother, Renee, sometime around one in the morning.

"Where was your mother, Bella?" I muttered to myself, deciding to do another search.

_Renee Higginbotham-Swan-Dwyer_

Just as I hit enter, I heard a door to the east wing open up downstairs. Quickly, I shot up from my desk, stepping silently into the shadows. My brow furrowed as I saw the last person I'd expected to see. Bella. In her arms was a ragged-looking notebook, but it was her beautiful face that made me wish I could hear her thoughts. The sadness that took over at the sight of my old piano was heartbreaking. I could even smell the salt of her tears as small fingers simply had to reach out and touch.

She'd set her notebook down as she took in her surroundings, but Emmett's voice echoed in from the main hallway. Bella tiptoed to the door she'd left open, but through Emmett's thoughts, I could see who she'd been hiding from. Mike Newton. Shaking my head, I shifted to see her better, and her eyes shot up to my dark hiding place on the stairs. Once her way was clear, she left.

My eyes fell to the notebook she'd left behind. I shifted on my feet, knowing that touching it would be so wrong and that she'd most likely come back for it, which was another reason to stay far, far away from it. However, I heard Angela speak to her in the hall, taking her down to the dining hall and farther away from her personal property.

In the blink of an eye, I was down the stairs and picking up the notebook. It was drenched in the scent of her – flowers and fruit and human sweat. Thumbing through it, I saw page upon page of her handwriting. Groaning, I slammed it down for a moment, bracing my hands on either side of it. I glared at it, wishing it would simply disappear, but it didn't. Every word inside that book was from Bella's mind. It seemed she had a voice, but it was a silently penned one. And she wrote every word to her father.

"I'm already going to hell," I muttered, flipping the book back open. I soaked up every word, every fear, every triumph, and every failure. The guilt I felt was completely overshadowed by my curiosity to know more…and more and more. However, it was the last entry, the entry most recently written down, that caught my attention.

Bella was scared, feeling weak at opening herself up to new people, possible new friends, because she'd been hurt before. She'd liked Carlisle and already felt a kinship with Alice Brandon and Rosalie Hale. Her fear of being found by the men who'd attacked her was evident, so I did the only thing I could do. I wrote in her book.

_You're not weak. And you are safe here._

It was all I could think to say, and it didn't even cross my mind as to what she'd think when she saw it. I couldn't even stop myself. I hoped she'd chalk it up to the "haunted" wing of the castle, but she needed to know that she was anything but weak and that anyone who dared to touch her again would not live to tell about it. Snorting humorlessly to myself and setting the notebook in the exact same place she'd left it, I walked away.

**~oOo~**

I'd avoided everyone inside the castle for a couple of days after Bella's notebook entry. I worked by myself in my living quarters, ignoring all who came to visit. Not even Jasper could get through to me. And I couldn't bring myself to finish the internet search I'd started.

It was late Wednesday afternoon. I'd been inputting new student records and tuition payments in to the program I'd written. Payroll was next on my list, and I'd just started to calculate hours for the kitchen staff when I heard it.

It was faint, coming from several floors below, but it was unmistakable what and where it was. I knew the sound like the back of my hand. It was the grand piano on the stage of the auditorium, and it was being played by someone who truly knew what the hell they were doing.

Jumping up from my desk, I bolted down the passageway that ran alongside a few main hallways. I took the steps down to the backstage door. Silently, I cracked it open, slipping through the costume closet, only to plaster myself behind the stage curtain.

Bella's small frame seemed to be lost on the big stage. The piano itself looked too big for her, but she was a master behind it. She started tentatively, beginning with Debussey, melting into Beethoven, and finally, ending with something I didn't know. She was so lost to the music – something I completely understood – that she barely acknowledged that someone had opened the auditorium doors.

She smiled shyly at Alice, who happily plopped herself down in the front row.

"Don't stop!" she told Bella.

My first instinct was to agree with her and say the same thing.

Bella played one more song, this time by Chopin, only to morph into something contemporary, which made Alice laugh.

"You're really good, and…" Alice froze and her eyes raked around her. "You seem to make…this place happy."

Bella looked at her curiously.

Alice shrugged. "Sorry. Sometimes, I get impressions of things…things I can't put my finger on. I want to say it's ghosts, but that doesn't fit either. It's why I'd asked Emmett about the east wing, because I get…_feelings_ whenever I'm near there, so if it's ghosts, I'd love to know. What I meant is, your playing gives off a good vibe."

My brow furrowed as I read Alice's mind. It wasn't a ghost she was seeing. It was me. She just didn't know what I was. It made me wary to move, simply because the two girls a mere twenty feet from me were damned observant, but Alice saved me.

"If you're done, we can grab dinner," she suggested, and Bella nodded silently, giving the piano a longing look. "I think you'll be okay when you see Mr. Harris on Friday. I hear he's pretty nice," Alice soothed.

Bella smiled and got up from the piano bench, but suddenly, she glanced backstage, almost to where I was standing. For a split second, I wondered if she could feel the draw as much as I did.

Alice and Bella walked out of the auditorium together, and as soon as the doors slammed shut, I took off. I turned right instead of left, meandering through the castle. I ran as quickly as I could, hardly caring that students heard something they couldn't distinguish, though they assumed it was just the noises of the castle.

I practically fell into Esme's office.

Her eyes narrowed on me, but her mind suddenly cut off. "Edward, what's wrong?"

"I can't do it," I told her, knowing I sounded cryptic and crazed. "I can't let Harris teach her. But I can't…" I shook my head fervently.

She got up from her desk and walked to me. Placing her hands on either side of my face, she forced my gaze to hers. "Edward, I know you're worried, but you need to know that your father and I have complete faith in you. I went to see Leah, and I agree with her… You make your own destiny, despite what you've come to believe. If you want to tutor Bella, I'll tell Keith now. He's got enough to be doing with four other students, and I honestly think she's above his level. I'll simply tell him that my husband's nephew will be taking on the new student."

"I can't stay away from her…"

"I know, son." She soothed me by pushing my hair from my forehead. "And I honestly think Bella will surprise you."

My brow furrowed, but Esme's thoughts were open. She was sure that Bella would prove to be the best thing to ever happen to me.

Shaking my head, I sighed deeply. "And what will I be to her? Her undoing, is what."

Esme laughed. "Was I Carlisle's undoing?"

Smiling in spite of it all, I let out a laugh. "No."

"Then shut up, Edward. I love you as if you were my own son, but I think it's time for you to do the job you were born to do, that you'd trained as a human to do, and one that may change your life," she told me. "_For the better_," she tacked on before I could argue.

I sagged under her gaze. I couldn't argue with her logic, and I couldn't stay away from Bella any longer. I needed to be in her presence, and I wanted to know more about her than what she'd put down in a diary.

"When?" I asked in a whisper.

Esme smiled. "Friday afternoon…after class. Meet me here, and I'll take you to her."

I rubbed my face with both hands, ending with a rough rake through my hair. Letting out a defeated sigh, I said, "Okay."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… There it is… LOL You guys have been asking about how long Edward would wallow… ;)**

**I actually think this chapter should've answered most of your questions. What can Alice "see"? Which the answer is not everything. I think you also know the answer to when Edward and Bella will be in the same room. However, the big concern was the three death cards. Some guesses came close, but no one nailed the trifecta. ;) LOL **

**Please make sure you check out ficsisters . com. I wrote a review for JenRar's **_**A Light in the Darkness**_** which went up last week. They have some amazing recs over there, too. **

**Okay so I'll see you guys next Sunday. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N… No, you're not seeing things. It's an update instead of a pic tease. See…my birthday's coming up, and I was feeling a little generous, so you guys get the gift. And yes, you'll still get a chapter on Sunday… ;)**

**But I **_**think**_** this is the chapter you've all been waiting for. ;) I'll let you get to it. I'll answer a few questions at the bottom.**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 5**

**August 2001**

**BELLA**

_You're not weak. And you are safe here._

Those words made my fingers twitch of their own accord on the top of my desk. My eyes raked around me, narrowing on students, teachers…everyone. Someone had read my journal. And not only had they read it, but they'd had the audacity to write in it.

The two short sentences rattled around in my head constantly. I'd memorized them, the feel of them, even the color of them. Whoever had written them had beautiful handwriting…and a heavy hand. They'd left an impression through almost to the back of the notebook. It was almost full, but still…

With every assignment passed forward, every paper that came my way, I looked for penmanship that matched, only to come up empty. Most of the boys in my classes had the normal messy script, where most of the girls' were curly and silly, some using little circles for dots. But there was no one with a flowing script like the one in my journal. It looked old, almost like calligraphy, but it was obviously a regular pen. The ink was almost like my own.

It made me nervous that someone, somewhere knew about me. That they'd read my worst fears, my failures, and anything else I'd said to my dad. My first thought was that it was vile Mike Newton, but he'd already passed me enough notes that I'd been able to cross him off the list. His writing was barely English, much less legible.

My eyes locked onto the boy in question across the classroom. Mr. Dobson droned on in history class, but Mike was staring my way…and so was Jessica. It hadn't even been a full week of classes yet, but already I had enemies. Though, this time, I also had a friend.

Alice was fantastic. She didn't push, judge, or pressure. She simply accepted me as I was. She was also two steps ahead of Mike and Jessica almost at all times, helping me to avoid a run-in with either of them. It was truly pissing Jessica off, but Mike was too stupid to realize he was being thwarted.

History was my last class of the day. As most people made their way down to the dining hall, back to their dorm rooms, or to the library, I decided to get some fresh air. The day was overcast, but the rain had stopped around mid-morning. I stepped out into the back courtyard, giving a glance around. There was a pathway that led to a small lake, and I took it.

The Masen grounds were beautiful and too big to see from one spot. From the small dock, I could see the thick forests running along either side of the lake. Off in the distance, I saw a thin column of smoke. It looked like it was coming from a chimney, which would confirm that there were some employees who lived outside the castle, yet still on the property somewhere.

I walked down the dock, finding a dry spot to sit down, but I just about jumped clean out of my skin when a loud bang broke the silence. Glancing over to my left, I saw a small boat house or shed, and I met Jasper's gaze as he stepped out holding a wrench in his hand. He froze mid-step, his eyes raking over me. A slow smile curled the corners of his mouth.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he stated, chuckling lightly. "I didn't know anyone was out here."

I waved him off and shook my head at the same time.

"Oh, you're…the one," he guessed, pointing my way with the tool.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed, gazing back out over the water. I shouldn't have been surprised that word of me had gotten around, but sometimes, it was like an uphill battle. People had already formed opinions before I even knew them.

"Dammit, I've insulted you," he said, coming to squat next to me. "I'm Jasper," he introduced. "Don't be mad, okay? Mrs. C just kinda gave us all a heads-up with you. You're Bella, right?"

Smiling a little at his nervous rambling, I nodded, shaking his hand. He had a Southern accent that came through his tone, something calm, almost soothing.

"No offense, but I wouldn't go much farther on the grounds alone than this," he warned kindly. "You just… It's easy to get lost in those woods, and even though it's fenced in, it's a pain in the ass to get back. And a long walk, too."

Grinning at him, I nodded. I thought he'd walk away when I pulled out my journal, but he didn't. He plopped himself down on the opposite side of the dock from me.

Cracking the notebook open, my finger immediately traced the two short sentences for the millionth time. My eyes shot to the castle, and I tried to figure out which windows belonged to the east wing. I knew they were facing the back courtyard, but I wasn't sure which ones.

A part of me wanted to write in my journal, but the sight of the script that didn't belong to me seemed to taint the feeling. And I wondered if I'd ever get back the solace of writing to my dad.

"Homework?" Jasper asked, and he grinned when I shook my head no. "Love note?"

I literally snorted out loud, really shaking my head that time.

"Hmm," he hummed, and I could see him teasing. "Not homework, not a love letter… Passing notes?"

I liked him. Alice had said he was standoffish, but I honestly wasn't getting that from this guy. He seemed young, maybe early twenties, with blond hair and light brown eyes. His smile was crooked and wry, like he knew something I didn't know.

Suddenly, I sensed a peaceful feeling, which calmed me enough to speak. "Is the east wing really haunted?"

His laugh was deep, but musical. His eyes twinkled with amusement.

"You don't speak to your teachers, but you'll ask me that?" he joked, shrugging a shoulder when I nodded. His eyes drifted to my open journal, his smile twitching a little. He then glanced up at the castle, saying, "Some say it is. I've heard rumors that people have heard things back there. Some say they've heard voices, music, things being broken. Have you seen it?"

I held my finger and thumb close together.

"A little?" he verified, and I nodded. "Well, I know it's forbidden to students, so that makes sense."

I wanted to tell him I thought someone…or some_thing _wrote in my notebook, but I couldn't find the words. I also felt a little violated about it all. Frowning at the note, I closed the book. Maybe it was time to crack open one of the new ones that Chelsea had bought me and start over.

"Boy, someone pissed you off," Jasper noted with a chuckle, but his brow wrinkled. He eyed my notebook, then my face, only to glance toward the castle. "Hmm… I had a younger cousin back at home…she used to write in a diary. She was hellfire incarnate when her little brother would get ahold of it. Is that what that is? And what? Someone read it?"

I nodded fervently, the truth of his words making me angry all over again.

"And what's that got to do with the east wing?" he asked, mainly to himself, but he watched me for a moment.

"I left it," I said softly, bending the notebook in my hands. "Someone read it…_wrote_ in it."

He frowned, glancing down at the tool in his hands and fiddling with it. He nodded once and looked back at me. "Well, then, sounds like someone…or some_thing_ is trying to tell you somethin', Miss Bella. Maybe they were _too nosey_ for their own good. If you're mad, leave another note." His grin was hilarious, and I giggled a little. "Maybe you can scare this ghost off, or at the least teach him some manners."

Giggling, I nodded, thinking that wasn't a bad idea. We both glanced up at the sound of footsteps on the dock. I smiled Alice's way, but Jasper stood up. His face changed from the easygoing thing he'd been since he'd found me, to something that looked nervous, shy, almost angry.

"I'll leave you to it," he murmured. "It was nice meeting you, Bella."

He passed Alice on his way off the dock, and she gave him an appraising onceover before she squatted down next to me. Her skirt flared out around her.

"Here you are," she gushed, smiling at me. "I've been looking everywhere for you. We have to work on that biology report."

Nodding, I glanced up at the castle, my eyes raking over windows. Some were lit enough that I could see students milling about in the library, some in the hallways, and others in the dorms. At the very top, there was a single figure, though it moved before I could get a good look at it.

I stood up, shouldering my bag, and smiled at Alice, gesturing toward the castle, silently telling her, "After you."

**~oOo~**

Friday morning dawned just as rainy and dreary as the day before. Alice was humming to herself in our bathroom as I unlocked my trunk. I stared at my old journal, frowning at it, only to drop it inside. I snatched up the pack of notebooks Chelsea had bought me, unwrapped them, and pulled one out.

Alice was suddenly standing next to me. "What happened? You just got it back, but you're stashing it?"

Her eyes flickered from my new journal to the old one now in the bottom of my trunk. She tilted her head at me, waiting for me to say something. She'd known about me leaving it behind in the east wing when hiding from Mike, but I hadn't said anything about what had been written in it when I'd gone back to get it.

My brow wrinkled at her, wondering what she was seeing. By now, I was pretty sure her little talent was legit. She'd helped me more times than I could count this first week of classes.

I picked up the old notebook, opened it to the last page, and showed her. Her gasp was loud, and her eyes, which were more blue today than green, went wide.

"Who did this?" she squeaked.

"I don't know," I answered softly, frowning at it. "Not anyone we know."

She bit the inside of her cheek, studying the two sentences I had memorized, and then closed the book quickly. "What if… What if there _is_ something in the east wing?" she asked in a whisper. "What if _this_"—she held up the book—"is the way it communicates?"

I tapped her temple in silent question.

"No! I can't see anything!" she gushed, still whispering. "The only thing I see is you leaving that one back there before we go into Hunter's Lake tomorrow and then getting it back on Sunday."

My eyebrows shot up at that. On the weekends, students were allowed to go into town for a few hours, as long as they had permission. There were small shops and restaurants, and Jacob Black would drop us off and pick us up.

If Alice saw me leaving the new notebook in east wing, then I guessed I'd made up my mind to do as Jasper suggested. The sound of footsteps in the dorm hallway caught our attention, which meant we needed to get to class.

"Bring that with you!" she hissed, tapping the new notebook. "I'll help you figure out what to write."

Grinning, I nodded and slammed my trunk, locking it back swiftly.

Alice and I passed notes practically all damn day. We debated on how to approach the questions, whether I should be mad at having my privacy invaded, and what time I needed to leave it back there the next morning. It made the classes fly by, which was good because I was looking forward to my piano lesson at the end of the school day.

Other than my brief practice on Wednesday, I hadn't really played. I missed it something awful. I missed the calm that came with it, the escape from reality that I got when the notes wafted around me. I even missed the struggle of trying to finish my own composition, something I'd been working on for years. The end just wouldn't come.

After history class was dismissed, I walked with Alice back to our dorm room. We dropped our books on our beds, and I gathered up my sheet music.

"You nervous?" she asked, smirking my way.

Shaking my head no, I smiled, but then I shrugged, holding up my thumb and forefinger.

"A little," she said with a giggle. "Go get 'em," she ordered, pushing and shoving me toward the door. "You'll be great. Maybe Mrs. C got that special tutor and he's hotter than sin."

A laugh barked out of me as I got to our door. I rolled my eyes at her, but her knowing smirk caused me to raise an eyebrow at her. She merely giggled and shoved me into the hallway, slamming the door closed behind me.

Shaking my head, I started toward the auditorium. I was early, but I figured I could practice a little before Mr. Harris got there. The farther I got away from the main halls and dorms, the quieter it became. I opened one of the double doors, which caused an echo to reverberate throughout the entire room. Even my steps echoed as I walked to the stage and across it.

I set my things down on the bench and took a seat, a smile crossing my face as I lifted the cover from the keys. My memories of playing stemmed back to when I was little. My grandmother – my dad's mother – was the one who had gotten me started. She'd played and had sat me on her lap to teach me. It had simply snowballed from there. She'd seen me play my first recital, but passed away shortly thereafter.

Remembering that, I started with _Claire de Lune_. It had been her favorite and one of the first songs I'd heard her play. I lost myself in it, in the memories of my dad's pride the first time he'd heard me play it. I was so lost in it that I didn't realize someone had stepped up on stage until I was finished.

I jumped at the sight of Mrs. Cullen, mouthing, "Sorry," to her.

She laughed lightly, walking to me. "Don't you apologize, Bella. That was beautiful."

I smiled gratefully her way, but finally saw that there was someone with her. He was younger than I was expecting – no more than twenty-one, if I'd had to guess – and I wondered if he was Mr. Harris. He was dressed in black jeans and a black button-down shirt that he hadn't bothered to tuck in.

I gave his tall form a onceover, starting at his black dress shoes, all the way up to his hair, which was a mussed dark brown with reddish highlights. His face, though, was breathtaking. The combination of a thick, masculine brow and sharp jawline with his long dark eyelashes and almost feminine cheekbones made for a gorgeous combination. A small smile graced his face, but he looked wary, nervous…almost scared.

My last thought before Mrs. Cullen placed a hand on my shoulder was that Alice was right…he was hotter than sin.

"Bella, I know you were expecting Mr. Harris, but remember when I told you that I may have a special tutor for you?" she asked me, and I nodded, looking up at her curiously. "Well, this is Dr. Cullen's nephew…mine by marriage. Edward Cullen."

He stepped forward, holding out his hand, and I shook it. A warm, tingling sensation shot through my fingers, spreading throughout my palm, and up my arm. Both of us gasped, pulling our hands away, but he chuckled nervously, a sound that made my stomach do flip-flops.

"And please, just…just Edward," he sputtered, his brows drawing together. "Mr. Cullen is too..." He shook his head a little. "Technically, I'm not a teacher, just a tutor, so…please, no formality."

His voice was a velvety, smooth sound, with a tiny touch of a rasp in it. It gave off a soothing feeling, but it was sexy at the same time, which was an utterly ridiculous thought on my part. Surely someone as beautiful as the man standing next to the piano had a wife or girlfriend, and a crushing sixteen-year-old girl would never stand a chance, especially someone like me.

Smiling, I nodded and then looked up at Mrs. Cullen, who was smirking his way, but she turned to me. "Bella, Edward is going to work with you from this point on, and I think he'll challenge you better than Mr. Harris would have, considering he has four other students to teach. And I don't particularly think you need _teaching_, just someone that can work with you at your level, which the other four students aren't anywhere near where you are. Okay?"

I nodded in acceptance, waiting for her to go on.

"At the end of the school year, the music and drama students usually put on a performance; it's part of your grade, so Edward will prepare you for that. And if you're interested in continuing music in college, he'll be the one to guide you." She glanced between us, smiling softly.

Again, I nodded, but glanced to Edward. He looked as nervous as I felt as he raked a hand through his already messy hair, causing it to stick up even more, but it fit him somehow, like it was just disheveled enough to look natural and carefree.

Mrs. Cullen chuckled again, looking to me. "Before I leave you to it, I just wanted to know if your first week here was okay."

I nodded fervently, smiling up at her.

"No problems?" she verified.

"No, ma'am," I whispered with a shake of my head.

She shot me a wink and smiled. "Good. Just what I wanted to hear."

She faced Edward, saying, "I'll be in my office should you need me."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered her, watching her walk off the stage and up the aisles to the main doors. He seemed to steel himself before looking to me. "Shall we get started, Bella?"

His voice wrapping around my name caused my heart to race, but I nodded dumbly up at him.

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

Gazing down at the girl in front of me, it was all I could do not to either run away or fall at her feet. If I'd thought she was stunning just watching her from afar, then I'd sealed my fate when I shook her hand. I felt it the second we touched. I was hers, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Her heartbeat and shaky hands told me that she was nervous as she nodded in answer to my question. She wasn't the only one. With a deep breath, I smiled.

"Okay, so I'm aware that you…" I gestured to my throat." Her deep sigh, soft groan, and eye roll made me chuckle. "Apparently, Esme's warning to the staff has worn out its welcome," I surmised.

Bella's nose wrinkled adorably, but she shrugged.

"Hmm," I hummed, shaking my head and still smiling. "I tell you what. We won't address it, then. How's that? If you want to answer, answer. If you want to write to me, that's fine, too. I'll ignore it altogether. Never mind what she's said, though she did it with the best of intentions."

She nodded, a small smile curling her beautiful lips.

"Okay." I glanced down at the folder she'd brought with her. "I heard you playing. Excellent work, by the way. Is this what you've been working on?"

Nodding, Bella reached down, picked up the file, and handed it to me.

Flipping through it, I saw the usual suspects in piano pieces – classical, theater, and contemporary songs. At the back of the folder was a stack of handwritten music. I pulled it out and thumbed through it. If my guess was correct, this was the unknown melody that I'd heard Wednesday night.

I held it up. "Yours?"

She nodded, but grimaced.

And then she did the unthinkable: she _talked_.

"It's not…finished. I can't seem to…" Her soft, wary voice trailed off, and she gazed down at her hands in her lap.

Smiling, I understood. I'd been there. However, I'd never expected her to speak to me. Not once. And even though the sound was so very nervous and shaky, it was officially my favorite new sound.

"That's okay. Why don't you start with this? _Claire de Lune _was well done, so let me hear this…at least what you have written so far."

I set the sheets down, but she didn't bother with them. She played from memory, and it was, indeed, the same piece that I'd overheard on Wednesday. It started light, almost happy, but it changed slowly. It turned a bit dark, a little sad, and then almost angry. The piece then flattened out into a sound not unlike flowing water, but fast flowing water. And if I had to place the emotion behind it, I'd say it was fear.

And then it hit me: the song _was_ Bella. It was her life and losses and feelings, all right there.

I hadn't realized I'd been pacing as she played, so when the song ended abruptly, I spun almost too quickly to face her.

"This is where you're stuck," I assumed, and she nodded, looking rather ashamed. "Bella, I think this is what we should work on for your final grade, for your performance at the end of the school year."

Her eyes widened, her hands twitched in her lap, and she looked like she wanted to scream no at me.

Leaning my elbows on the top of the piano, I said, "It's personal, I know. I hear it. But…maybe I can help?" I offered.

She bit her bottom lip, but didn't answer me just yet.

"This is what I do, Bella. We can make this your final project, work out what's causing you to get stuck on the ending. It's also an excellent way to showcase your talent, should you apply to college music programs," I told her, and suddenly, I really hoped she'd let me help her.

Something in me shifted, some sort of collapse or acceptance. I wasn't sure what it was. If I asked Carlisle, he would say that my instincts – my immortal instincts – were recognizing my mate. If I asked Leah – or Giselle, for that matter – they would tell me that my soul had found its other half. All I knew was that fighting it – fighting that hundred-year-old prophecy, that pull on me since Bella had stepped foot inside the castle, and that lonely ache I'd had for so long – seemed to be fruitless.

However, the reality was that I wasn't human, that pretenses needed to be maintained, and above all else, she was only sixteen years old. She shouldn't know what I was, no matter how badly I wanted to reveal the real me to her. It was quite possible that I'd scare her completely away, especially considering she'd already been through hell before she got here. I needed time. _She_ needed time.

When she still didn't answer me, I started to ramble and pace again. "Of course, we could work on something more…the norm, something complex to show off your talent, something you could play without worry. Chopin, perhaps…"

"Edward," she whispered, and I just about tripped over my own feet to turn back to her.

The sound of my name was probably the best thing I'd ever heard in my very long life. It transcended the mere sound of her voice and skyrocketed up to my number one favorite sound ever made on this planet.

"Hmm?" I hummed, trying not to flinch when my own voice cracked.

She smiled, holding up the music sheets. "Okay."

Studying her face and making sure she'd meant it, I grinned and nodded when I saw a tough determination there. Carlisle's statement about her strength being her biggest ally came flying to the forefront of my mind. He would've been proud of her in that moment.

"Okay," I echoed, taking the music sheets. "Well, we need to do two things." I held up two fingers to her. When she tilted her head in question, I said, "First, you've got to tell me about this song. What it means, what inspired it, and where you think you see it going. You can write it out for me."

Bella looked nervous, but she nodded, holding up two fingers and raising an eyebrow at me.

I chuckled again, simply because her lack of voice didn't mean a lack of fire, because her deep eyes sparked with it. However, that thought made me wonder just how long it had been since she'd been challenged. I would've given anything at the moment to read her thoughts, but as I took in her expressions, I saw that I didn't need it, really. It most likely stemmed from her lack of voice, but her face read like a book. Everything was _right there_ out in the open. She'd simply learned to communicate that way.

Holding up the sheets, I went on. "Second, I need to learn this in order to help you."

"Oh," she whispered, but then nodded up at me, seeming just a tad overwhelmed.

Walking to her, I knelt down to her eye level. "Relax. I'm only here to help. I need to know the piece just as well as you do, okay?"

She nodded, and her shoulders sagged just a bit. Reaching out, she tapped the pages in my hand. "It's…not accurate."

Raising an eyebrow at her like she'd done to me, I said, "Well, then, it's a good thing I can play by ear. Let's go, Bella. Play through it again."

I was then rewarded with another amazing sound. Her giggle. It was adorable and sweet and, God help me, sexy. I motioned for her to start again, and she did. However, I knew that our communication would need a bit of help. She barely spoke, and that was okay; I'd never force her into anything that made her uncomfortable. She answered as best she could, but I'd need to really hear her thoughts in order to work with her. Getting up, I walked backstage and rolled a tilting blackboard to the front, stopping by the piano.

As soon as I did it, I realized my mistake. I couldn't write back to her. It would be a neon sign as to who had written in her journal, and Jasper had already told me about his conversation with Bella. She'd been pissed at having her privacy invaded. He'd felt it all around him. He'd called me a lucky bastard, because she assumed it was the "ghost" in the east wing, and he'd pushed her to continue thinking that. He'd then told me that if she figured it out and wanted to kick my ass, he'd do it for her.

That thought made me snort to myself, but I shook it off quickly. I turned around, letting the notes Bella was playing sink in. The one benefit of my strange existence was my mind's ability to focus on more than one thing.

When she was done, I held out a piece of chalk. "We need to really work together, Bella, so use this. We also need to make that as accurate as possible. The sheets need to match what you're playing. It'll help you in the long run."

She stood up from the piano bench and took the chalk from me with a nod.

"We'll work on writing the music first and then work on what's holding you back from finishing it," I told her, taking her place at the piano.

Before my fingers even touched the keys, the sound of the chalk scratching on the board caught my attention. Her face was so very serious as she wrote to me.

_What do you know of my past?_

My heart broke at her worried expression, but I answered her as honestly as I could. "Only what Esme told me, Bella. That there was a break-in at your home, that your father didn't make it, but you did."

She stared at my face for a moment before going back to the board.

_This song is about him. And I don't know if I can write out all the details._

Choosing my words carefully, I said, "That may explain why you're struggling to finish it. Give it time. We'll work on it, but I'd like you to tell me what you can."

She wrote quickly again, _And if I still can't finish it?_

Grinning, I said, "Well, then you can play _Clair de __Lune,_ and no one will be the wiser."

Finally, she relaxed, and I saw that Carlisle was right. She couldn't speak about what had had happened to her the night her father died. She just wasn't ready, and I'd pretty much given her an out…or at the least I'd given her a plan that she could live with should she be unable to finish her piece.

"That makes you feel better about this?" I asked her, hoping she'd eventually relax a little more around me. "I'm not here to push you into something that makes you uncomfortable, Bella. I just want to make sure you show your best at the end of the year. Okay?"

What I wanted to tell her was that I'd like to find the monsters that did that to her and remove them from the earth. I wanted to hunt them down, stalk them, scare them, make sure they knew they'd made the biggest of mistakes by touching her, but I couldn't exactly say that.

Bella finally nodded in answer. "Thank you, Edward," she whispered nervously.

It was my turn to be silent, and I nodded in answer, looking back to the keys. I started her song, and for the next hour and a half, we charted the notes on the music sheets, making it as accurate as possible. We worked really well together, which surprised me, considering all that was different about us, but it was obvious that the one thing we shared was a deep love for music. However, at the end of the second hour, I couldn't help but chuckle when her stomach growled forcefully.

"Okay," I said with a laugh. "We'll stop here for now."

Her face bloomed into a deep red blush, but she giggled anyway as she packed up her things.

"Bella," I called just before she left the stage. When she faced me, I said, "If this day works for you, then every Friday after your last class, we'll meet here. Mr. Harris has lessons most of the week, but this day's clear. And allow for two hours at most, okay?"

She smiled, tucked her hair behind her ear, and nodded. "Okay," she whispered, rushing out of the auditorium and leaving me alone in the large windowless room.

I sat down on the piano bench, facing the keys. Reaching out, I just barely touched the ivory, letting my fingers graze over them. I heard his mind before he appeared backstage, having come from the hidden passageway.

"How much did you hear?" I asked Carlisle, looking up when he stepped out of the shadows.

His face gave away nothing, and he was reciting some passage from an ancient medical journal to keep me out of his mind.

"Is your opinion so bad that you have to block me?" I asked, not really teasing, but I smirked his way.

"No, son," he said softly, shaking his head a little. "I just wanted to tell you…I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," I whispered, playing a soft chord with my fingers. "Yet you still block me."

"It's just…I've noticed something with Bella, Edward," he stated, looking unsure as to whether or not to share it with me. When I met his gaze, he relented. "When Esme told me about her visit to Bella's home in Boston, she explained that the girl didn't speak aloud to her parents. However, she spoke to Esme. She's spoken to me, and now you."

I sat up straighter. "And Jasper."

"What did he say about her?"

"That he could feel a lot of emotions coming from her – fear, anger, curiosity, but with him…trust," I told him.

He nodded like he'd assumed as much, looking over at the scribbled blackboard. "It seems she only speaks to those she trusts, which makes me wonder why she doesn't speak to her parents."

Frowning, I shook my head. "Maybe she does, and Esme just didn't hear it."

"Maybe. It also makes me wonder why she's so comfortable around every single one of us," he stated, shrugging a shoulder. "I'm not sure I understand it. Most of the students around here have a pretty decent fear of us. It registers in their heartbeat. The only time Bella is nervous is when she needs to speak aloud. Otherwise, she's as cool as a cucumber."

His thoughts then opened, and I saw that his theory was because she was my mate, which maybe took away that fear, but he wasn't sure.

"It can't possibly be that easy, Carlisle," I gasped, gaping up at him. "No. I refuse to think she's basically _wired_ for me. I just…can't."

He laughed lightly and sat down next to me on the piano bench. "It is possible, Edward. Her blood doesn't tempt you. That alone means she's different."

Hope bloomed heavy and warm in my chest, but I was afraid of giving in. She still had no idea what I was, how vile my kind could be. And her life had been so hard already. To add to that would be a sin against her.

"She'll hate it all," I whispered. "She'll hate me."

He squeezed my shoulder. "You can't know that, and you'll eventually have to come clean, son. You won't be able to stop it. She's a smart girl and obviously very strong. Try not to underestimate her."

I took a deep breath and let it out, nodding a little. "Okay."

"Good," he said, standing up. "Now, Esme wanted to see you in her office after your first lesson with Bella. She sent me to get you."

Nodding, I got up, erased the blackboard of Bella's writing, and followed him to the hidden passage.

**~oOo~**

Saturday morning dawned to a sunny day, which made it difficult for any of us to move about the castle without revealing our strange skin. However, since there were no classes, it really didn't matter.

I stared at my computer screen, going over the first weeks' grades that the teachers had turned in. Both Bella and Alice were at the top of their class already. It seemed Esme was correct in predicting that she'd do well at Masen.

The two loudest minds I knew were making their way to my door. I gazed up at Jasper and Jacob when they stepped into the room.

"Shouldn't you be driving the van to Hunter's Lake?" I asked Jacob, raising an eyebrow.

"Pfft, I've got time," he said with his usual happy grin, jerking his chin toward the clock on the wall. "Twenty minutes, actually."

I tried to turn back to my work, but the two were standing there singing loud, awful songs in their heads. "Seriously? You two can't find anything better to do?"

Jasper grinned. "Shut up, Edward. We just wanted to know how the piano lesson went."

Both of them looked like children waiting for Santa on Christmas morning, and I shook my head at them, my eyes on my computer.

"It went…well," I told them. "She's a brilliant pianist."

_So, is__ she your 'beautiful swan' or not?!_ Jacob asked loudly in his mind.

I knew why he wanted to know. His reasons were two-fold: to verify his great-grandmother's prediction, and he'd protect Bella with his life if needed. He'd do the latter for me without me asking.

Smiling his way, I nodded. "Yeah, Giselle was right."

He was just about to cheer out loud for me, but I was up and out of my chair with my hand covering his mouth. Down the stairs, I heard the secret door to my ruined piano room creak open.

Jasper tilted his head. _Whoa, shit…it's Bella_, he thought to me, and I nodded once.

Warning them silently not to move, I stepped quietly to the edge of the stairs, where I could see her. She was in her own clothes – jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and sneakers. It was the item in her hand that caught my attention. A notebook. And it wasn't the same notebook she'd left behind as before. This one looked brand new.

With her usual nervous glance around, she set the journal down on top of the piano and hastily retreated out the secret door. I was down the stairs and back up with the notebook in hand before she'd probably made it down the corridor.

"She didn't," Jasper gasped, then cracked the fuck up.

"You!" I growled, poking his chest. "You did this. You gave her the idea. Now what am I supposed to do?"

"Read it!" they both said.

Turning to Jacob, I pointed toward the door. "She's obviously going into town today, so go take her. And could you…"

He sobered up instantly, holding up a hand. "I'll watch her, Edward. Promise."

I nodded in thanks to him, because the mere thought of her outside the castle had me worried to no end, though I chuckled when he pouted about wanting to hear what she said in the journal. "I'm sure Jasper will catch you up. He gossips like an old woman."

"True," Jacob said with a barking laugh as he left my room.

"Asses, both of you," Jasper growled, shoving me. "Now read it!"

Walking to the window, I opened the notebook to the first page.

_To whoever read my journal,_

_It's not nice to invade someone's privacy. It's unfair that you know everything about __me and__ I know nothing about you. I've tried to find out who you are by your handwriting, but I don't think it's anyone in my class or any of my teachers. If I go by all the rumors, then you could be some sort of ghost, which I'm not sure I believe._

_So who are you? Ghost or human? And just who do you think you __are, reading__ something private, something that didn't belong to you? Since you know about me, maybe you'll be brave enough to tell me about YOU!_

_Leave this notebook in the place I left it. If you don't answer, I won't bother you again._

Grinning at Bella's ire, I shook my head. "She really is mad."

"I told you, jackass!" Jasper growled, rushing to me and quickly reading over my shoulder. His laugh was hilarious. "What are you gonna do?"

Walking to my desk, I picked up a pen and then looked back to him. "I'm going to answer her."

"How?!"

Smiling down at the notebook, I took a deep breath and let it out. "By telling her as much of the truth as I can."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… And the piano lessons have started, and it seems some secret note passing. ;)**

**Questions… 1… I know most of you are asking about Jasper and Alice, but I promise that will be revealed in due time, including why they don't feel a pull. 2… The three death cards. Yes, in reality (as much of a reality if you believe in them), the death card can mean more than death, but an ending of sorts. For this…it's simply death. And 3… Bella's age. Yes, she's 16, but time will move forward eventually. You'll see. However, Edward's 122, so I'm not sure the rules make much of a difference here. ;)**

**Like I said, there will still be a chapter posting Sunday. It's MY birthday next week, so I'll do what I want! ;) LOL Make sure you check out JenRar's fic **_**A Light in the Darkness**_** you don't want to miss out that one. And I'll see you in a few days. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N…Thank you guys so much for all the birthday wishes. No, you aren't late; it's tomorrow. However, I didn't post the extra chapter for that. I just wanted to be able to spoil you. ;) Sherryola said it was very Hobbit-like of me. LOL (For those not familiar with **_**Lord of the Rings **_**… Hobbit tradition is the one celebrating the birthday is the one to give gifts) LOVED that! :D Anyway, I'm sure another double-post will happen again in the future. **

**You guys are very interested in what Edward says back to Bella in her journal. I'll let you get to it. See me at the bottom, and I'll answer a few questions… :)**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 6**

**August 2001**

**BELLA**

The little town of Hunter's Lake looked like a postcard. It wasn't anything big or special or busy. It simply was a small lakeside town that seemed to make its living on the students and staff of Masen Academy. The shops and restaurants were housed in buildings that looked like they'd been around forever. And I think that was probably part of its charm.

Jacob pulled the large van up to the curb, turning to face us. "You guys have until three o'clock, and I'll pick you back up right here."

He had some sort of checklist as we stumbled out of the van, and he eyed us all as we walked past him.

Once Alice and I were clear of eavesdropping ears, she linked her arm in mine. "Tell me!" she hissed in a whisper.

Chuckling, I tapped her temple in a tease.

"Shut it!" she said with a laugh. "So did you leave it? Did you see anything?"

Shaking my head no, I gazed over at her with a sad expression.

"Dammit," she huffed, pouting adorably. "I'd hoped some see-through entity was waiting for you. I saw _something_, but I couldn't tell what it was. It was all blurry."

Giggling again, I shook my head. "Sorry," I whispered.

"S'okay," she sighed, smirking my way. "But I'm telling you, you're gonna spill on that piano lesson, Isabella! You looked drunk by the time we went down to dinner last night."

Snorting humorlessly, I nodded, but I could imagine that I had looked drunk. Edward had not only been an amazing teacher, but he was beautiful in every way. I'd immediately felt comfortable in his presence, which was saying something, since I always got nervous around new people. He was extraordinarily talented on the piano, especially when he'd played my song almost note for note by ear. And he'd been patient, which was something not all of my teachers had been. He didn't care whether I wrote my answer to him or answered him silently, but the best was the really sweet smile he'd give me when I spoke aloud.

Alice and I wandered around the little shopping area for about an hour before we declared ourselves hungry. There was a diner at the end of the street, so we went inside, grabbing an open booth. There were a few of our classmates already there, sitting around and talking loudly. Our poor waitress looked like she'd snap at any moment. I couldn't blame her when I saw that the loudest table was filled with Jessica, Mike, Tyler, and a few others.

When I ordered by pointing to what I wanted, I had to fight the eye roll when the waitress stared at my neck. I should've been used to it, but occasionally, it bugged me. And it bugged me more today than usual, simply because it made me stand out. It made me realize that no matter how badly I was crushing on my piano tutor, he'd only ever see me as the damaged student with the ugly scar.

The waitress took Alice's order and walked away, but a notebook slapped down in front of me.

"Spill!" she hissed, tossing a pen at me.

The fact that she knew I'd be more comfortable writing than trying to speak, made me smile gratefully her way. Flipping her notebook to a clean page, I started writing.

_Mrs. C did bring in that special tutor. It's her nephew by marriage…Dr. Cullen's nephew. Edward Cullen._

Alice gasped, looking up at me. "He's hot, right? Like smokin' hot."

I nodded slowly at her with wide eyes, which made her laugh out loud enough that she had to cover her mouth, but hot didn't describe Edward well enough.

_But Alice__, he's so nice. He seemed just as nervous as I was, but he really knows music. And he wants me to finish my own composition._

"Fuck this," Alice huffed, getting up from her side of the table and sliding in next to me. "I want to read this as you write." She read what I wrote and then looked to me. "Okay, so why's that a big deal?"

_He wants me to tell him about it. It's very personal, and I'm not sure I can. I've been working on it for four years, and it's…_

Alice placed her hand over mine to stop me. "This is about your dad, right?"

Grimacing, I nodded. Alice knew what Mrs. C knew. I'd shown her the same article from the Boston newspaper, only I'd shown Alice online. It just seemed easier than trying to write it or tell it. Rose had happened to come into our dorm room at the time, so she knew as well, and she'd hugged me with tears in her eyes after she'd finished reading. Something about that told me Rose had her own past. I didn't know what it was, but I could respect that about her.

I nodded to answer Alice's question, but put the pen to paper again.

_Can you see anything about him?_

Alice smirked at me. "What'choo wanna know?" she sang, giggling when I poked her. "No, Bella. I can't. What I can see is that he makes you happy, that he helps you speak a little more, which tells me he's a good guy, but I can't see him specifically. He's a touch blurry. But that doesn't mean anything, really. There are a few people I can't always see clearly – like Dr. Cullen, which would make sense, since they're related, and Mrs. C, maybe because she's around him so much – and it's harder if I haven't met them."

_What do you __mean, it__ tells you he's a good guy?_ I asked her.

She smiled. "You don't even know you do it, do you?" she countered, and I shook my head in confusion. "Bella, you don't speak unless you're comfortable. Unless it's certain people."

I shrugged, looking down at the page, but it was suddenly snatched from me. However, Alice was quicker, stopping the notebook before I could grasp that Jessica and Tyler were standing there. Alice got up from the booth, and she didn't back down, even though Jessica was several inches taller.

"Well, if it isn't the lesbo lovers – the psycho and the freak," Jessica purred. "It's good you've got a friend now, Psycho…"

Alice snorted. "_Psychic_. Messica, I know your dyslexia makes it hard for you to remember, but do try, will ya?"

I grinned, but shook my head. Her loyalty was just as deadly as her temper, and her tongue was sharper than both of the other things put together.

"You think she's funny?" Jessica asked me, glaring my way. "Just wait. She'll tell you all sorts of good shit and then hit you with nasty things."

Alice laughed, looking to me. "Nasty things, Bella. I predicted Messica here would fail her Algebra test. Wanna know why? 'Cause she had chlamydia. Huh… So did Mike, if I'm remembering correctly."

A laugh barked out of me that I couldn't hold in, and even Tyler laughed at that, but he shut up when Jessica shot him a withering glare.

Mike joined the other two, gaping at me. "So you _can_ make some sort of noise…"

"Newton!" I heard in a deep, booming voice, and I glanced up to see Jacob assessing the entire situation.

What I hadn't noticed was that our waitress couldn't get to the table with our food, that most of the students in the diner were watching all of it with sharp attention, and that Jessica looked like she was about to punch Alice, who was still laughing.

Mike paled under Jacob's glare, and Tyler was already gone. Jessica gave us a foul look before walking away. After Alice had taken her seat across from me again and the waitress had quickly deposited our food in front of us, Jacob came to our table, giving Mike a warning point with his finger.

"You two okay?" he asked softly, looking to me. When I nodded, he smiled. "Don't you sweat them, ladies. If I catch Newton and Stanley out of bed after curfew one more time, they're in serious trouble."

"Excellent," Alice hissed, rubbing her hands together and grinning maniacally.

Jacob chuckled. "I know, right? It's only a matter of time with those two, trust me." He stood up straight, tapping the top of our table. "Van pulls back out in an hour and a half. Try to be on time, okay?"

We both nodded his way before he walked up to the diner counter, and I handed Alice her pen and notebook back. We ate quietly. Thankfully, Mike and Jessica left before us. However, before we left to wander around the shops a little more, Alice stopped me.

"Bella, I think you should tell this guy about your composition," she said, stopping me when I shook my head no. "I'm not saying everything, or even for you to go into detail, because I know you can't, but give the guy something. I think it helps you."

Studying her face, I could see that she was sincere. She merely wanted to help. And with her cryptic reason, I knew that she couldn't quite see everything.

So I nodded, whispering, "We'll see."

**~oOo~**

Sunday morning, I was a nervous ball of energy. It was all I could do not to rush to the east wing to grab my notebook, but Alice practically tackled me.

"No!" she hissed, forcing me back down onto my bed. "Just wait. You'll have plenty of time after breakfast. Right now, the cleaning staff is working the hallways. Once we leave, they'll change our sheets and stuff, which means everyone will either be in the dorms, outside, or in the dining hall. You need to be careful going in there. Get caught, and Mrs. C will find out."

I sagged, but nodded in acquiescence. Reaching up, I tapped her temple.

She smiled, but shrugged. "I only see you getting it back, not if there's an answer."

Wrinkling my nose at that, I sighed.

She glanced past me toward the window. "Hey, the sun's out today. Let's eat outside, okay?"

My nod made her happy, so she quickly got dressed. We made our way down to the dining hall, where there were a few students and teachers eating, but it seemed most were outside enjoying the sunshine after the few days of rainy weather. Alice and I both toted our breakfast to the farthest table on the back courtyard. Her chair faced the wide expanse of property, while mine faced the castle. It seemed we were both looking for something. My guess was that Alice was watching out for Jasper.

As I took a bite of my breakfast sandwich, my eyes drifted up to the third floor. I still wasn't sure which window housed my broken-down piano, but it was impossible to tell with the sun reflecting off almost every glass pane. Alice and I were ignored for the most part, and when a bunch of guys decided to toss the football around, she gave me a quick nod, simply because a large majority of the students followed them out onto the grounds.

We walked inside together, throwing our trash away, and Alice told me to meet her back in our room.

Taking the back stairs alone, I kept my eyes open for company. I passed a few students, but by the time I reached the third floor, I was completely alone. I gave the main hallway a quick glance before ducking behind the tapestry I now knew by heart. It was a scene of hunters on horseback, with hounds in the forefront. Off to the side were ladies with big dresses and parasols in their hands as they sat beneath the shade trees. It was old and painted a beautiful picture of a time when things seemed simpler.

The hidden door was unlocked, and I stepped into the sunny room. Dust motes floated in front of my eyes. The smell was still musty, yet spicy – or maybe it wasn't spicy as much as it smelled sweet and welcoming, like sandalwood or cinnamon. And the piano still looked sad and forgotten. But right on top was my notebook. The purple cover was sharp in contrast to its dull surroundings.

I gazed around, my eyes always falling to the broken stairs that called to me, but I wasn't brave enough to explore at the moment. My curiosity about what could possibly be waiting inside that journal was too much for me to ignore. There were no noises, no moving shadows, just the sound of cheers from outside in the courtyard. For some strange reason, I knew that contrary to my other trips into the east wing, this time, I was alone, which made me wonder if my mysterious reader had answered my questions.

I grabbed the notebook and held it close as I hurried back to the secret doorway. A quick listen, a brief glance out into the hall, and I was clear to go.

Turning right instead of left, I worked my way back through the maze of hallways toward the girls' dorm. I burst through the door to find Alice pacing, and she stopped dead in her tracks when I locked the door behind me.

"Well?" she practically yelled, but I laughed, shrugging.

We both fell onto the edge of my bed together, giving each other a smirk before I opened the cover of the journal. A gasp escaped us both as the heavy, dark, beautiful script filled not only the rest of the first page, but the next one as well.

_My dear writer,_

_You have my sincerest apologies for my invasion of your privacy, though in my defense, you did leave your property where anyone could find it. __Perhaps it's__ best someone like me came along, instead of one of your classmates. Some of them are cruel and insignificant._

_Someone like me… That does need answering, doesn't it? You're so very right; it's only fair that I answer you as honestly as I can. There are boundaries, rules that bind my tongue (or pen, in this case). I wish, with all that I am, that I could tell you, but for now, I have no alternative but to stay hidden._

_Ghost or human? I suppose both, in some ways. I am solid, though no one really sees me. It's been a very long time since I've shown myself, though recently, I've found that I'm aching to truly be seen, if only by one person. I'm a man, but…not. _

_There are more mysteries in this world than mere __ghosts and__ certainly things more dangerous than humans. There are walking myths and deadly beasts. There are creatures that you may think only exist in books, in fairytales, or in ghost stories. Humans are surrounded by these beings every day, and they are none the wiser. Most of us are hidden in shadow, living long lives, unable to reveal what we truly are, but that only means that mankind, as a whole, couldn't handle knowing._

_However, you, my strong, beautiful writer, have no need to fear me. I'd rather die than harm a single hair on your head. I wish I could explain to you the enormity of that statement, but it is completely true. To harm you would end me._

_Which brings me to my next point… You really should be careful sneaking about the east wing. You could get __caught or, even__ worse, hurt. Should you feel the need to reply, then please be cautious, and DO NOT wander past the piano room. It would kill me to think you got into trouble or hurt yourself simply to pass me a note._

_I vow to you that your secrets are safe with me. I promise to carry them with me until the end of my days, never telling a single soul. Though, the world should know just how strong you truly are. I picture you as a phoenix, rising up above the flames, only to come out on the other side stronger, better. However, I don't think you see yourself that way, __which is__ a shame. You asked me if I was brave enough to answer, and I did as best as I could, considering the rules I'm bound by, but your turn, Bella. Tell me why you think you're weak, why you suffer in silence, yet your heart cries out on the page. From what I've read, you worry about something as cosmetic as a scar, when really, it's what you have __inside you__ that matters most._

_You write to your father as if he's gone, and if that's true, then for that, I am truly sorry. However, you fight your battle in silence, when there are people that would fight with you, for you, and in your place should you just simply…look. Try not to judge new friends __on the sins__ of others in your past. Not all are heartless._

_If you choose not to reply, I'll understand._

_Sincerely,_

_Your friendly Masen Academy "ghost"_

My brow furrowed, but Alice voiced what was in my head.

"He writes like he knows you, or at least has met you," she noted. "And he knows your name."

I nodded in agreement, but I got up and opened my trunk, pulling out my old journal and holding it up.

"Ah, your name was on it," she said, looking back to the letter. "He's not a ghost," she whispered, flipping the page back and forth. "He talks like he hates what he is, like he's ashamed of it. And the _way_ that he talks, it's…old-fashioned or something."

"But beautiful," I whispered, sitting back down next to her.

"Oh, totally!" she gushed, nodding and looking at me. "Are you gonna answer him?"

With wide eyes, I shrugged. I wasn't sure I _should_ answer him, simply because his cryptic description of what he was unnerved me a little. My curiosity was even worse after having read his reply. Something in his tone told me he truly cared, was moved by what he'd read, and his promise to keep it secret was something I believed, strangely enough, but one question still remained.

"What is he?" I whispered, looking to Alice.

She took a deep breath and let it out, her eyes scanning over the pages. "I think he gave you clues. He said a lot, but I bet if we dissect this, not to mention do a little research in the library, we could get an idea." She closed the book and looked over at me. "He's right, though. You could totally get busted going back there. You need to make your trips random and as few as possible. You don't wanna be like Newton."

Chuckling, I had to agree with that point. I was tempting my luck with as many times as I'd sneaked back into the east wing.

I took my notebook back, looking down at it. "I want to…research before I answer," I whispered nervously.

Alice smiled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "No problem. Since we've got homework, so we might wanna head down to the library. Maybe if you have time after…"

Groaning, I sighed, but got up to grab my backpack, waving a hand to her to do the same. I couldn't afford to let my "ghost" affect my grades.

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

**September 2001**

With school in full-swing, the last few weeks had been hectic. It was the second week of September, and the castle was buzzing with activity. Because the classes were smaller, the teachers were able to give the students a more demanding curriculum – more homework, more tests, more projects. It kept them busy, as well as gave them a taste of what college would ask of them, especially if they moved on to Ivy League schools, which most of them had a tendency to do.

I made my way through the halls, now out in the open. Some of the kids knew who I was – as in, they knew I was Carlisle's nephew and a piano tutor. I ignored most of the blatant stares, the lustful thoughts from some of the female staff and students, and fought my smile at the fear that rolled off some of the males. They didn't even know why they were fearful of me, but it was helpful nonetheless.

I passed through the offices and down the small hall to knock on the door for Carlisle and Esme's living quarters.

"Come in," I heard Esme say.

I stepped into the living room, seeing the two of them pulling on coats. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Esme said, walking to me. "Carlisle and I need to hunt. In order to do that, we're going into Canada. So I'm leaving you in charge for the rest of the week. The staff is aware that we'll be gone for a few days, and they have your phone number. I've also told them you're staying here," she explained, pointing to the floor.

Smirking, I nodded. "Okay, no problem."

"And no, son, you can't expel Mike Newton," Carlisle added with a chuckle.

My lip curled in hatred. "He and his little friends need to leave her alone. Expel isn't the word I'd use," I growled, shaking my head. "The boy will definitely find himself in trouble."

Both Carlisle and Esme chuckled, but it was the latter that said, "I've repeatedly asked Bella if she's okay. She says she is. Please trust her."

"I _do_ trust her. It's him I don't trust. Or that Jessica Stanley, either. They're constantly up to something," I sighed, sitting down on their sofa.

"Edward, it's your nature to protect Bella, but you can't remove every student simply because they're giving her trouble," Carlisle stated. "Bella's strong, and she's done a good job at dealing with them."

Nodding, I looked down at the floor. Bella was incredibly strong, and she had no idea that she was. She merely plugged along at her normal pace, and everything else was inconsequential. And God help me, she was brilliant and observant at the same time. She hadn't returned the notebook back to the east wing, but that didn't mean she'd given up. She'd simply been too busy with school work and her piano composition to do anything about it. I'd heard enough through her teachers and classmates to know that they were all busy.

A part of me hoped she wouldn't answer. The other part of me hoped she would, and that part died a little every day the notebook didn't appear on my old broken piano.

"Her birthday's this week," Esme pointed out, which caused my head to snap up. "Seventeen."

"Enough, _Mom_," I growled, standing up from the sofa. "She's too young. She's got her whole life ahead of her."

"And she's crushing on her piano tutor," she countered with a girlish giggle that made me crack a small smile, but it fell just as quickly as it came.

Shaking my head, I sighed. "That's all it is: a crush."

"Bullshit," Carlisle said with a laugh. "Edward, she's spoken out loud to you more than everyone else combined, and that includes that tiny roommate of hers."

Something about that fact made me proud, and I stood up a little straighter. "She still won't speak of her music. She avoids it. But she also can't seem to move on with the ending."

"Time, sweetheart," Esme said, cupping my face. "Give her time."

"Time, I have," I sighed, smirking at her. "Go on. Get out of here. But I think I need to go when you return."

"Fair enough. You can take Jasper with you when you go," Esme soothed, brushing my hair from my forehead. "Behave while we're gone."

I snorted, shaking my head at the fact that both treated me and loved me like I was their own. "Yes, ma'am."

Once they left, I used my old passageway to move about the castle. It gave the receptionist at the front desk the impression that I was still in Esme's apartment, but allowed me to keep an eye on Bella. I stopped dead in my tracks at that thought. I wasn't sure if I was keeping an eye on her or simply stalking her. All of it had become muddled in my head. My entire instinctual makeup was so drawn to her that I found myself seeking her out at the oddest of times – like now, where she was simply working in the library at the end of a school day. My sense of propriety, however, wanted to be able to leave her alone. There were nights I had to leave the castle altogether, take a security watch with Jacob, simply to stop myself.

The wall beside me was warm from the fireplace in the library. However, I couldn't stop the low growl that rumbled out of me at the thoughts I suddenly caught. I spun around, running as fast as I could, only to slip quietly out of the hidden passage and into a storage closet. A brief listen with mind and ears told me that I could open the door undetected.

Making my way at a human pace to the main foyer and into the library, I was pretty sure my face showed my anger, because a few students darted out of my way quickly. Bella usually sat in the farthest back corner with Alice and, sometimes, Rosalie. Neither of her friends were with her, but she was trying her best to ignore the four people around her. What nearly made me tear the library to shreds was the smell of her tears. They were distinctly Bella's – her scent, but with a touch of salt and something almost sweet.

Mike Newton was straddling a chair backwards facing Bella, while Jessica stood behind him, holding a sheet of paper. Two newer students were with them – Tyler Crowley, who had started this year as a junior, as well as a freshman, Lauren Mallory. All four were listening raptly to Jessica read the news article on Bella's attack, the night that her father had died. It wasn't so much the article. It was the barrage of questions they were firing at Bella.

"So you didn't see anyone's face?"

"Did you watch your dad die!?"

"What about your mom?"

"That's enough," I snapped, trying to keep my voice low enough to keep Mrs. Graham, the librarian, from losing her temper. "Miss Stanley, you have about five seconds to hand me that paper, or you'll find yourself on the train back to D.C. before dinner."

Four heads spun my way, all assessing me, but it was Newton that stood up and spoke. "Mr. Cullen…"

I shook my head at him to shut him up, because if he didn't, I might have punched his smug face right there in the middle of the library. Turning back to a now stock-still Jessica, I held out my hand. "Now, Miss Stanley."

The pages landed in my hand tentatively, and I glanced down at them, shaking my head. I couldn't quite look Bella's way yet, though I was stunned to realize that in room full of heartbeats, I could distinguish which one was hers.

The article in my hand had been printed off a web site. It was no more than anyone knew about that night. What I found most interesting was that it came from Jessica's father, because there was an email attached.

Sniffing once to get my temper under control, I looked at the four students in front of me. All of them shifted nervously under my gaze, as they should.

"Miss Stanley, it was mighty kind of your father to send you this," I started, though sarcasm was thick in my tone. "Perhaps he should be focusing on the scandal he's currently wrapped up in – something about a prostitute…an under_age_ prostitute?" She paled at my knowledge, but said nothing. Turning to Mike, I narrowed my eyes. "I'm well-informed on you, too, Newton. Since we're airing out people's secrets, we could talk about your brother, Thomas. Is he still doing twenty-five to life in Ohio?"

Newton flinched and actually nodded, though at the moment, he was _hating_ me, which made me smile his way before I rounded on Tyler and Lauren. "You two are new, and you're not without your own skeletons in the closet, so I would highly _suggest_ that you make better friends."

"Yes, Mr. Cullen," they whispered.

"All four of you can report to Jasper in the greenhouse. I'm fairly certain he can find something for you guys to do for the next…oh…" I glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was not quite four. "Two hours. Go. All of you." Pulling out my phone, I sent a quick text to my brother, telling him to make it the harshest punishment he could invent…just shy of making them disappear. Funnily enough, I could hear his laughter through the window from the back courtyard.

It was all I could do to stay standing in that spot and not follow them. The paper crushed into a ball in my fist, but the sound of Bella packing up made me spin her way. Taking the chair next to her, I reached out to stop her.

"Hey, Bella, look at me," I whispered, but she shook her head no. Her heart was beating so fast, it sounded like hummingbird wings, and her hands were shaking as she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Please?" I begged her in a whisper. When she finally met my gaze, her dark eyes pleaded with me to just let it go, but I couldn't. "Where are Rose and Alice?"

She shook her head, pulling her notebook to her, where she quickly and shakily wrote her answer.

_Art project._

Nodding, I sighed, gazing around the library. Most minds were curious, some were ignorant of the situation, but one mind was concerned, and I met the dark eyes of Angela Weber. Her shyness had kept her from helping Bella, but it didn't mean she didn't care.

Bella was shaking so badly that she could barely pack up her things. Stopping her, I finished for her, zipping it up and slinging it over my shoulder.

"Come with me," I said softly.

We left the library together, though in silence. Bella's heartbeat was worrying me. It was beating heavily as I wound us through the castle and up to Carlisle and Esme's place. The receptionist was gone for the day, and I led us straight inside, where Bella looked around curiously.

"This is my aunt and uncle's quarters," I explained, gesturing toward the sofa. "Sit, Bella. I'll get you something to drink."

Walking into the kitchen, I smiled at the fact that Esme insisted on keeping a well-stocked refrigerator for visits from members of the staff and parents of the students. I took out a soda and grabbed a glass, pouring her a little.

Kneeling in front of her, I whispered, "Drink this. Slowly. It'll help."

The glass shook a little as she lifted it, but she did as I asked. However, she wasn't looking my way. It was all I could do not to pull her to me, make all of the bad things go away, but I knew I couldn't, and it killed me inside.

She finished off what I'd given her, and I poured her some more, urging her to take it. When she took another few sips, she finally calmed a bit.

"I'm sorry they did that, Bella," I told her truthfully, taking the glass and setting it and the can of soda down onto the coffee table.

She shook her head, gazing around the room. Esme had decorated my parents' old wing beautifully. It looked nothing like what it had when I was human. And I supposed that was a good thing. I didn't exactly have fond memories of my father.

I didn't think Bella would speak, but she did.

"I've been through worse, Edward," she whispered, shrugging a shoulder.

"Well, that doesn't make it right," I huffed, getting up from my spot in front of her and sitting down on the chair across from her. I had to put distance between us, or I'd do something completely inappropriate – like touch her. Or scoop her up and run away with her.

Shaking my head at my own idiocy, I looked back to Bella, who was still gazing around Esme's place. "I can't imagine what could be worse," I mumbled, frowning a little. "They were harassing you."

She smiled, but it was the saddest smile I'd ever seen. "My 'best friend' in seventh grade," she started, using air quotes. "Maggie's father was the police officer on my case. She stole…pictures."

Groaning, I sat forward, my hands sinking into my hair, and my heart broke into a thousand pieces. "And she showed them around," I surmised, speaking toward the floor.

"Yes."

Shaking my head, I locked gazes with sad, yet fully-accepting eyes. "It's still not right, Bella. And you're stronger than you think."

Her brow furrowed, but as usual, her answer was a shrug.

I knew the name Maggie from Bella's journal. I'd known that something had happened, but Bella so rarely went into detail about things that dealt with her past. She'd write to her father about the current things – the here and now – but she stayed safely away from anything having to do with the night he died.

"Why'd you…" she started, but then trailed off.

I panicked a little. I couldn't exactly tell her that I'd overheard Jessica in a secret passageway just outside the library. I also couldn't tell her that the four foul children that had dared harass her almost met their demise. I considered telling her I was looking for her about her composition, but I didn't think she'd believe it, considering our lesson was just two days away. So, I lied.

"I was looking for Mrs. Graham," I told her, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. "My aunt and uncle are out of town for a few days. I was going to ask her to keep watch with me on a few things."

Bella smiled and nodded. "I should…" She pointed toward the door.

"Just tell me you're okay first," I demanded, standing when she did.

A nod was the answer I received, and she shouldered her backpack and walked to the door. Her hand reached for the doorknob, but she stopped and looked up at me.

"Thanks, Edward. No one's ever…" Again, she trailed off, but I realized that she'd spoken more to me inside that room than ever before.

"Well, they should have," was all I could say before she smiled my way and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway.

I had to chuckle when a blur of black hair suddenly wrapped around Bella.

"Oh my damn. What the hell happened?" Alice practically squealed, not acknowledging me yet. "Messica fucked with you, didn't she? I _knew_ she would, that stupid _cow_! But I couldn't leave the art room! Rose said to come look for you here, but I'd already 'seen' you at Mrs. C's place, so I was already headed here."

My snorting aloud caught both girls' attention, and Alice slapped a hand over her mouth.

"My bad," she mumbled from behind her hand, which made Bella giggle.

I waved it away with a smile. "I'm thinking you're in good hands now, Bella."

Bella nodded, looking to Alice. "Edward," she whispered.

"Oh!" Alice gasped, smiling my way. "Nice to meet you. I'm Alice Brandon."

Alice's mind was interesting. I'd caught flickers of it before, but with her standing in front of me, it was a cacophony of past and present. She couldn't quite "see" me, but she didn't seem to worry about it, since I wasn't the only one that was like that in her visions. If she was a true seer, I wondered exactly what Leah would make of her. I had to force my facial expression to stay blank as she caught sight of Bella happy and smiling. She also saw Bella talking, and that made the tiny waif of a girl very pleased. Alice was a loyal friend to Bella, and that settled my mind a lot. I was glad she had someone in her corner.

"Edward Cullen," I introduced myself. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh hell," she grumbled. "That can't be good."

"It's all good, I assure you," I said with a laugh. I couldn't help it, simply because Alice was a pleasant mind and a happy disposition.

Bella giggled, rolling her eyes and shoving her friend down the hallway.

Alice laughed and gave me a wave, and her eyes raked over me before the two girls left me standing in the doorway. However, before the two disappeared around the corner, Bella gave me one last wave.

**~oOo~**

I was early to Bella's piano lesson. The auditorium was eerily quiet as I stepped across the stage to pull the rolling chalkboard closer. I hadn't seen her since she left Esme's quarters, but I'd heard plenty throughout the school.

Smiling to myself, I shook my head. Jasper had given Jessica Stanley, Mike Newton, and the other two students the most disgusting job he could find, and apparently, it had taken several showers to rid them of the stench of fertilizer. He'd made them re-pot plants…by hand.

I'd received two phone calls – one from Newton's parents, and the other from Jessica's. Once I'd explained to them what had actually happened, they'd backed down. I also explained that the two students in question weren't exactly angels, having long, varied lists of offenses. When I told them that they were inches away from being sent home permanently, Mr. Stanley and Mrs. Newton dropped their complaint, which had deflated both students' egos instantly.

My smile grew bigger when the sound of the auditorium doors met my ears. I turned to see Bella making her way up the aisle to the stage. She was still in uniform, but in her arms were her music folder and a package.

She dropped both down onto the piano bench, looking to me. Something about her demeanor seemed off.

"Hello, Bella," I greeted, leaning against the piano. "Everything okay?"

She nodded, but her eyes betrayed her, flickering to the package on the bench. I caught sight of the return address and looked to Bella again.

"Something from home?" I asked, and she grimaced and nodded.

I chuckled at her. "It can't be that bad, Bella. Isn't your birthday soon?" I asked, knowing for a fact that it was the next day.

She nodded, looking down at the package as she took a seat on the bench. "Tomorrow."

"Happy birthday," I whispered, dragging a chair over and sitting down in front of her. "I suppose I should say it now, since I won't see you."

She smirked, but whispered, "Thanks."

Her face looked so sad, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why. "Open it," I said suddenly, grinning when her eyes shot to mine. "Oh, come on, Bella. Let's see what you got."

Her sweet cheeks blushed, but she snatched up the package and ripped the pull-tag. A small velvet box tumbled out into her hand, along with a folded piece of paper. She read the note, her eyes tearing up a little, and with tentative fingers, she opened the little black box. I frowned when a sniffle escaped her.

"What is it?" I asked, not caring about what she received, but more about her sad reaction.

She handed me the note blindly, her eyes still on what was in the box.

_My sweet girl,_

_I miss you so much, but I hope you're doing well at school. I was cleaning your room the other __day and__ found this underneath your dresser. Remember when you thought you'd lost it?_

_So I thought I'd have it cleaned, and I added a new charm for you._

_Happy birthday, Bella._

_Much love,_

_Chelsea_

"Who's Chelsea?" I asked, setting the note down.

Bella swiped at her tears. "The woman that took care of me."

My brow furrowed, and I remembered Esme's thoughts of the housekeeper that had greeted her at Bella's home in Boston. Esme had found her kind and patient.

"Why the tears?" I asked, fighting a battle inside myself not to reach out and wipe them away.

Bella turned the box around, revealing a silver charm bracelet with several different charms on it. She touched it reverently with a shaky finger.

"My d-dad gave me this the birthday before he…" She trailed off, silently begging me with those hurt-filled brown eyes not to make her say it. When I nodded, she continued. "I thought I'd lost it."

Trying my damnedest to get her mind off the sadness attached to this bracelet, I asked, "Okay, so which one is the new one?"

She sniffled a light laugh, pointing to the treble clef. Along with it was a tiny silver piano, a little stack of books, a daisy, what looked like a fairy, and finally, a fish.

"Okay…humor me," I said with a laugh. "I get the piano and the treble clef and the books. What on earth does the fish mean?"

Her giggled was the sweetest sound, especially since she'd been crying. "My dad liked to fish. He took me a few times. I always caught more than him. He used to pretend like he hated it."

I chuckled again. "And the fairy?"

"He used to call me Tinker_bells_…'cause I was short. The flower because I liked to pick wildflowers at my grandmother's."

"Fair enough." I reached in and carefully took the bracelet out. "Those are good things to remember, Bella. Maybe this will remind you of that."

Her eyes welled up again, but she nodded and swallowed thickly as I put it on her wrist.

Before she could pull away, I stopped her hand. "Is that all that's bothering you?"

She sighed, swiping tears with her free hand. "My mom didn't send anything."

Carefully masking my ire, I met her gaze. "Maybe it just hasn't come yet. Hmm?" She shrugged, but nodded, so I said, "We're gonna scratch everything I had planned today." I let go of her hand, stood up, and shooed her over on the bench. "No work today. It's a birthday party."

Her giggle was so loud, she covered her mouth, but she immediately reached out for the ivories. I laughed when she started with _Heart and Soul_, but couldn't help but reach out and join her. I tried to ignore the feel of the heat radiating off her as she sat next to me, the sweet smell of her shampoo, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it.

We were still playing silly songs an hour later, when Bella's stomach growled hungrily. With a chuckle, I helped her gather her things.

She touched the bracelet and then glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "Thanks, Edward," she said with her usual quiet voice, giving me a small, shy smile.

I couldn't help but smile back at her. "Happy birthday, Bella. Enjoy the rest of your day, and I'll see you next Friday, if not sooner."

She nodded and then turned and hurried from the auditorium, shooting me one last glance over her shoulder before leaving the room.

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Okay, so she heard back from her "ghost." He was truthful, albeit vague. The question remains… Does she answer him back? ;)**

**Questions… Bella's age seems to be an issue with some of you. She's now canon 17. And if you'll remember correctly, Edward was in college before he was changed, and he just passed his immortal 100 years. Yes, he's 122, frozen at 22. I will say this again…this is a **_**slow burn**_**, which has driven my beta and pre-readers just about out of their minds. LMAO And time moves forward, though at 17 a canon Bella was throwing herself at a 109 year old Edward. Just sayin'. Also, you must have faith in this Edward; he isn't an ass – far from it, actually. NEXT… As far as Alice and Jasper are concerned…these are **_**canon**_** couples, and you're simply gonna have to trust me. ;) This fic is kind of a long haul, so kick back, relax, and just hang in there for me. I PROMISE everything will be revealed…eventually. **

**Okay, remember you can find me on FB and Twitter. And all the links can be found on my profile. We're back to a regular posting schedule. So I'll see you Thursday for the pic tease and then again Sunday for the update. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N… I know I must sound like a broken record, but damn, I can't wrap my head around the love you guys are showing this fic! I can't thank you enough. And you make me NERVOUS! Seriously. LOL **

****WARNING**… There is talk of crimes against women/rape at the beginning of this chapter, though I do not go into detail. It's merely mentioned. Think...canon Rosalie Hale. If you have concerns, please PM me or message me on FB. **

**I'll let you get to it. I answer a few questions down below. **

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 7**

**September 2001**

**BELLA**

"It's so fucking unfair," Jessica whined, and I could feel her eyes on me across the library. "I get a C for my oral book report, but the freak over there gets an A. She didn't even have to get up in front of the class."

"Jess, she can't speak," Tyler pointed out, rolling his eyes.

He'd lost patience with her ever since they'd been busted by Edward a few weeks ago. I'd overheard him tell her that he couldn't afford to get into trouble. He was here on scholarship, and he wasn't going to mess that up. And Lauren stopped hanging out with them altogether. She was sitting across the room with Eric Yorkie. Apparently, the skeletons in their closets that Edward had threatened them with were scary enough to shut them up.

"Yeah, silence is golden, Jess," Mike taunted her. "You should try it and shut the fuck up every now and then."

She threw a book at him, but he knocked it away with a laugh.

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on my paper, thinking that Alice had been right about them. It was love-hate or something. They were inseparable, yet they fought all the time. It did seem rather unhealthy. But the more they bickered with each other, the less they set their sights on Alice and me, which was a good thing.

"Ignore them," I heard next to me, and I smiled up at Rose. "They're miserable little shits."

Chuckling, I shrugged.

She sat down next to me, setting her books on the table. "No, really. Just ignore it. Jessica is jealous, and Mike is just an idiot." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Tyler comes from a working-class family, so he's pretty much left those two to do what they want, but Jessica and Mike are spoiled, pampered, and pompous. They've never struggled for a thing in their lives. You have to consider the source."

"I know," I whispered to her, studying her face. It seemed she had more to say.

She smiled when I spoke. "That's the first time you've spoken to me directly." When I looked apologetically her way, she waved a hand, still smiling. "No, it's cool. I get it." She sobered quickly, giving the group in question a glance before looking back to me. "They've also never been hurt or really truly scared. Not a getting caught type scared, but real, true fear."

Rose had known fear. I could see it all over her face. It took experience in that type of fear in order to recognize it on someone else's face. She'd looked death in the eye and survived it.

My brow wrinkled, and I whispered, "You okay?"

"I should be asking you that," she said with a snicker, but she swallowed nervously before leaning closer to me. "A few years ago, I was out with some friends. It was the year before I came here. We'd gone to the movies in Manhattan. When we came out, it was raining. We should have taken a cab home, but we opted for the subway. My stop was before theirs, so I got off the train and headed up to the street. I didn't make it past the first alleyway before I was knocked over the head and dragged between a dumpster and a stack of boxes." She sighed, toying with her pen on the tabletop. "An old homeless woman found me the next morning and called the police. I'd been beaten, raped, and left for dead two blocks from my apartment building."

She locked gazes with me. "You have your reasons for not talking, but I did the opposite. I was angry, pissed off, and I took it out on everyone." She gazed across the library, smiling softly. "Until I got here and met Emmett."

Smiling, I looked over at the guy in question, and he grinned back just as sweetly. He looked like an angry bear of a guy, but he was so funny and so very easy to be around.

"Emmett takes the bad stuff and makes it go away," she said, looking back to me. "And he lives in New Jersey, so he was able to start going to therapy groups with me. Still does occasionally." She sniffed a little, but smiled. "What I'm saying is, they don't get it, Bella. They never will. They'll skate through their cushioned lives without a care in the world. They'll marry who they should, go to the college they should, and have their two-point-five kids. They'll never know what it's like to have to fight to survive. You can't let them get to you." When I nodded, she started to get up, but faced me again. "And take it from someone who understands… If there's someone you _can _talk to, someone who makes you comfortable, or someone willing to listen, then take that and run with it."

My thoughts immediately went to Edward. I wasn't sure why, but he seemed to be the one person I could actually speak to aloud almost consistently. I wasn't sure if it was our common love of music, or his easy way of letting me decide, or even just because I felt so calm around him, but I'd realized around our third or fourth piano lesson that I'd speak more than write to him.

There was also Alice, and even though I knew she'd listen, it didn't seem fair to burden her with my problems.

"I see you have an idea," she stated, patting my shoulder. "Think about it."

Nodding, I gazed more at my paper, but stopped her before she left the table. "I'm sorry that happened, Rose."

"I'm sorry for you, too," she answered, but smiled. "But like Emmett once told me, it takes a lot to keep a good bitch down."

Giggling, I nodded, and she left me alone at the table, until Alice joined me a few minutes later.

She dropped her books heavily on the table, glaring my way. "Biology is done, Calculus test is over, and English Lit is just reading. Can we finally take a fucking breath?"

Chuckling, I shoved my Spanish work her way. "No."

She slammed the book closed with a smirk. "Yes. Where's our ghostly journal?" she asked.

We'd been so busy starting the second week of school that I'd hardly had the time to eat, much less think about anything outside of homework, tests, and my piano composition. The journal had gotten shoved to the back of the list, which was okay, given that I wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

Grinning, I reached into my backpack and pulled it out.

She snatched it from me, shoving my Spanish book out of the way. "You've got all this coming weekend to do Spanish. It's not due until Monday. I want to know about MG, dammit."

I shook my head at her nickname, but it fit. Masen Ghost. She opened the journal, rereading his reply, only to pull another sheet of notebook paper and a pencil to her. She started making a list of what he'd revealed. While she worked in silence, I finished up my Spanish homework. I honestly didn't want to leave it for the weekend.

"Okay, so let's see what we have," she whispered, scooting closer so that her list was between us. "I've been thinking about this all damn day. We needed two lists: things that are a given, and hints that he dropped."

She pointed to her lists, and I nodded, reading them over her shoulder. One list was really short, while the other one went on and on.

"We know he's solid. He said so, and really, aren't ghosts just energy?" she asked me, and I shrugged. "I'm just saying, if you can walk through walls, you couldn't pick up a damn pen."

Grinning, I waved her on.

"He says he's a man, but…not," she grumbled, circling that point. "He writes like a guy…a man, but I don't get the 'not' part. We'll come back to that." She tapped the other list. "Here's the clues he left, just the things I picked up. He has rules to follow. Now…are those rules, as in laws? Or some sort of secret code of silence?"

Shaking my head, I tapped the next few points.

"Right! Exactly. So if he's some mythical thing, then there would be rules. I mean, Clark Kent just didn't go around telling the world that he was Superman and from another planet!"

Snorting, I had to bury my laugh into my backpack, but she had a point.

"Look at this," she said, pulling MG's reply closer. "He mentions books, fairytales, and ghost stories just before myths, beasts, hidden in shadows, and long lives." She tapped her chin. "There are only a few things…beings that have to stay hidden, but live long lives." She tapped the notebook, gazing slowly around the library before getting up suddenly.

She returned quickly, setting a book down in front of me. "This."

My mouth fell open at the sight of Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. I met her gaze, which was completely serious.

"No."

"It's that…or this." She tossed another book down with a grin.

I stared at JM Barrie's _Peter Pan_, shaking my head slowly as I laughed in silence.

Alice sat next to me with a giggle as I totally had to wipe tears away. "Think about it, Bella. Must remain secret, hidden in shadow, long lives, ghost story, myth, beast," she counted off on her fingers.

I pulled a piece of blank paper to me, writing quickly.

_So you think there's some sort of blood drinking, undead creature wandering around in the east wing? Is there a coffin somewhere I've not seen? Or a flying ten-year-old in green tights?_

Alice chuckled. "Technically, they're immortal. Undead would be a zombie." She tapped _Dracula_ a few times. "This could be the reason I can't see anything up there."

I let out a frustrated sigh, but gave her a wry smirk before writing to her.

_Okay, so let's ask him._

She grinned. "That's what I'm talkin' about!"

I pulled MG's letter closer, rereading it. Ignoring all his cryptic clues about himself, I focused on his questions, the sound of concern, and the pleas to be careful. The pull to answer him truthfully was so very hard to resist, so I started writing.

I wrote in my spare time and just before I'd go to bed for the next few days. I'd missed putting my feelings on paper, and I wasn't sure why, but MG seemed to have replaced my journal. Something about that was scary – the letting go of my father – but there was a feeling of curiosity there that I couldn't ignore. Since I'd been at Masen Manor, I'd seen things I couldn't explain, things I wouldn't have seen in Boston, so I needed to learn to accept the strange: the psychic best friend and the possibility that a ghost lived in the east wing of the castle.

By the time I finished my last class on Friday, I'd filled almost two full pages with an answer back to MG, and I had enough time to place it in the east wing before meeting Edward for my piano lesson.

It had been almost three weeks since I'd stepped behind the tapestry and into the old piano room. Nothing had changed. Dust and debris were still everywhere, and the late afternoon sun still cast eerie shadows in corners, at the top of the busted stairs, and along the rubble-filled fireplace. I inhaled deeply the musty scent of the place, just to catch that sweet smell that I liked. Dropping the notebook in its usual delivery spot, I gave the room another long, slow gaze before hastily retreating out the secret door.

After making my way to my dorm room for my music, back down the stairs, along two long hallways, and into the auditorium, I felt like I'd run miles to get there. I was out of breath when I finally dropped my things onto the piano bench. As I pulled out the sheet music for my composition, I heard the auditorium doors open.

I fought my eye roll and swoon as I watched Edward walk down the aisle, only to forgo the steps and pull himself up onto the stage with a quick and graceful push of his hands and a lift of a long, strong leg. It really was unfair how gorgeous he was, and I was pretty sure he was clueless. He never dressed like the other male teachers – dress shirts, ties, or sometimes, suit jackets. He preferred jeans or casual pants, sweaters or button-down shirts that he wouldn't tuck in, and today, it was sneakers and dark denim jeans that sat low on his hips and a black sweater with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows. And always, there was the hair that looked like he'd been flying, all windblown and carefree.

A smile curled his perfect mouth as he came to stand on the other side of the piano, and I waited for the words that always made my stomach feel like butterflies were battling with swords and armor inside of it. I wanted to punch myself for the way that he made me feel, but I simply couldn't stop it.

"Hello, Bella," he said with his usual velvet tone.

I waved, smiling his way and going back to my music in order not to stare.

"How were classes this week?"

I shrugged, but sighed. "Busy."

His chuckle made me glance his way, but he nodded. "I'm sure. It's hard to come up for air around here."

I shrugged again. "It's okay. Keeps me from thinking about home," I answered him without thinking. How he had the capability to get me to do that I had no idea, but sometimes, the truth just…came out of my mouth when I was with him. No one had ever been able to do that, and the power he had over me scared me.

"Are you homesick, Bella?" he asked, sitting down at the edge of the piano bench and giving me his complete attention.

I shrugged, shook my head, and then finally held up my thumb and forefinger just centimeters apart.

"A little?" he verified, and I nodded. "It's understandable to miss home. What do you miss most?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, eyeing him for a moment. He had this way of looking at me, of asking just the right questions to get me to answer him.

"Chelsea," I whispered, frowning at the fact that I couldn't say my own mother or my stepfather, but I missed Chelsea like crazy. "My room, my own bed," I said, smiling when he laughed, but as I gazed back down at the notes on the sheet music, my smile fell. "I miss being surrounded by memories of my dad."

My voice had been barely audible to me, but Edward had to have heard it, because the sadness that crossed his beautiful face matched what I felt inside.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Bella," he sighed, standing up from the piano bench. "You're not the only one that has lost a parent. Both of mine are gone, though I miss my mother more than my father. He and I didn't have what you would call a good father/son relationship."

I gazed up at him, my brow furrowing at what looked like dark anger and deep-seated sadness crossed over his face, and I wondered what had happened to them, although I wasn't brave enough to ask.

However, he cracked the heartbreaking, crooked smile that I'd learned to crave. "But I have my aunt and uncle. They've been like a second set of parents."

My eyes narrowed on him. "How old are you?" I asked without thinking.

He grinned, breaking into a soft chuckle. "Twenty-two…and getting older every day. We need to work today, Bella." He tapped my sheet music with a long, graceful finger.

Groaning, I nodded, plopping down onto the piano bench. About an hour later, we were both frustrated with my song, and my fist came down onto the keys, causing a foul note to echo around us.

Edward laughed, bracing his hands on his knees. "Okay, okay!" he said, still chuckling as he held up his hands in surrender. "Let's try something different." He shook his head, grinning and pointing to the keys. "Play…_anything_. Something that speaks to you or an influence…or even something that represents your mood."

I started a death march with a belligerently raised eyebrow, which made him fold his arms across his chest and counter with his own dangerous, yet sexy eyebrow.

"Seriously, Bella."

Smirking, I nodded and started something contemporary, yet slow and sad. The words swirled in my mind silently as I played. I wasn't sure if Edward knew the song, but one look at his face told me that maybe he did. He paced, though, a hand raking through his hair for the hundredth time since we'd been on that stage.

When I finished a song about being pulled to a person without the ability to stop it, I took my hands off the piano. I sighed wearily, thinking my crush on Edward had grown into more, but I was no closer to finishing my song than I was the day I'd met him. And I was feeling too much at one time.

"I can't finish this song, Edward," I whispered, fiddling with my charm bracelet in my lap, but he'd heard me, coming to kneel next to me. "I miss him too much to do it."

"You _can_, sweetheart," he whispered back, waiting until I met his sad eyes that seemed darker at the moment, more amber-honey than the usual gold-hazel, surrounded by the longest, darkest eyelashes I'd ever seen on anyone. "I know it's hard, but you have to take what's in here," he said, tapping my temple, and then pointed to the piano, "and put it there."

I tried to ignore the term of endearment he'd just used and focus on what he was trying to tell me, but I just shook my head.

"Emotion drives music, Bella," he went on with an urging in his tone. "Happiness, sadness, anger, love, jealousy, heartbreak… More songs are written about missing someone or loving someone or even inspired by someone than any other music out there. You know this. And you're strong enough to do this."

"I wish people would quit saying that," I huffed, balling up my hands in my lap. "I don't feel strong."

He got quiet for a moment. "You realize you haven't written a single word to me today?"

My head snapped up to gape at him, and he smiled, jerking his chin toward the blackboard that sat there blank, save for a few notes we'd tested.

"Nope. Not one."

Staring at the blackboard for a moment, my vision blurred from tears. The comfort and ease he gave me scared me. I wondered if he'd be the only person to whom I could truly open up, and that really hurt because I was pretty sure he only saw me as a favor to his aunt. When my tutoring was over, or next year when I graduated, we'd go our separate ways, and that thought made my chest ache. It didn't seem long enough.

He sighed deeply, shaking his head without taking his eyes from my face. "What's going on in that head of yours, Bella?" he asked aloud, but softly.

Frowning, I shook my head. "You don't wanna know…"

He huffed a humorless laugh. "Yeah, I do. Probably more than I could explain."

I glanced back at the blank blackboard and then back to him. "I only do that with you," I admitted softly.

He grinned. "Then I'm honored, Miss Swan," he said with a grandiose hand on his chest, which made me smile. "It's a good thing, Bella. And I don't take that lightly. I hope you know that. You've been through hell, and if you ever need to…"

I shook my head, waving him away and getting up from the bench. "You don't mean—"

Suddenly, Edward was in front of me, grasping my shoulders gently to make sure I was looking him in the eye. "I damn well mean it."

Swallowing nervously, I nodded, but he was too close and smelled too good, like sandalwood or laundry soap, so I stepped back and looked away. The urge to hug him or kiss him was right on the surface of things, but with that also came a deep desire to scream and yell and blurt out everything that I felt, and my stomach churned at the thought.

Edward groaned, again gripping his hair. "I think we're done for today," he said, sounding weary, and guilt ravaged me because I'd made him feel that way.

"Sorry," I whispered, gathering up my things and starting for the stage steps, but before I got to the bottom, his voice rang out.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Bella. I just want to help you," he stated, and I knew he believed the words he was saying.

I shook my head and looked back at him. He didn't want that. It was too much for me, so I was damn sure it was too much for anyone else, especially someone like Edward.

He smiled – sadly, I noted – but shot me a wave. "Have a good weekend, Bella. I'll see you next week…if not sooner."

Smiling back a little, I waved and left the auditorium.

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

As soon as the auditorium doors closed, I sat down hard on the piano bench, my hands clawing at my hair. I wanted so badly to just wrap Bella up and take that fearful look off her face. I'd been so close to doing just that for a split second that my hands shook. My whole body physically ached to simply do something to help her, to hold her, but there wasn't anything I could do.

Standing up, I ran for the hidden passageway, but instead of heading toward the east wing, I turned, taking the tunnel that led out to a far point of the grounds. I needed to get away from the castle, but I needed advice, too. By the time I came up to the surface, the sun was starting to set and the smell of Leah's wood-burning stove was sharp in the air.

I took the path toward her cottage at a human pace, my hands shoved deep into my front pockets. It wasn't until I was about a hundred feet from her front door that I smelled him.

Smirking, I said, "I need to see your mother, Jacob."

Stepping from the trees, Jacob huffed, snorted, and shook himself. His deep red fur fluffed up, but he walked to me. The older he'd gotten, the bigger his wolf form had become. He'd been the size of a large regular dog the first time he'd transformed, but now, he was as tall as a grizzly bear. He sat down playfully in my path, tilting his head to the side.

_Jesus, Edward…you look like you lost your best friend_, he thought to me.

"Not now, Jake," I sighed, my head falling back as I rubbed the back of my neck. "I need her help."

His head bowed forward, but he got up and stepped aside, his thoughts hopeful. He liked Bella, and his thoughts were a mix of her and Alice and the times he'd taken them into Hunter's Lake. She'd never spoken aloud to him, but he liked her all the same. My eyes narrowed on him when Jasper, and then Alice, entered his thoughts, but he quickly moved on to his mother and what time dinner would be ready.

I chuckled. "I won't keep her long, I promise," I vowed to him, shoving him a little when I walked by.

He barked roughly, but took off for the woods to give the perimeter a check.

Making my way up Leah's stone walkway, I glanced up when the door opened before I could knock. Frowning, I gazed up at Carlisle.

"Is she okay?" I asked him.

"She's fine. Fighting every suggestion I make concerning her medical care. She'll be happy to see you, though," he replied sarcastically, grinning when Leah's scoff met my ears from behind him.

"I'm an old woman, you two. I'm supposed to be cranky and creaky and wrinkled. I'm deaf, not dumb," she prattled on as she wandered about her kitchen. "Not everyone gets to stay perfect and pretty like you."

"Oh boy," I said, stepping over the threshold and into the warmth of the little cottage. "Aren't you in rare form tonight?" I asked her, leaning down to kiss her cheek, which she gladly accepted.

Her almost-black eyes glared up at me, but she poked my chest. I went with it so she wouldn't hurt her fingers.

"You… Just where the hell have you been? I have to hear from Jacob, not you, that your 'swan' is real," she chided, pointing to her kitchen table. "Sit. Tell me about her."

"Should I leave you?" Carlisle offered, but I shook my head no.

"Please stay," I sighed, resting my elbows rudely on Leah's table, but I buried my face in my hands. "I need…help."

Carlisle took a seat at the table, and Leah made herself a cup of tea and joined us. When I looked at her, the sarcastic belligerence was gone from her face, and in its place was warmth, her thoughts filling with worry. Carlisle's were similar, though his were more toward what could've happened with Bella to have upset me.

So, I told them everything: how the piano lessons were going, the journal, the pull to Bella, and lastly, the fact that she spoke to me.

"You should've seen her today," I said to Carlisle. "She answered every question I asked her verbally, even blurted out questions to me. She'd never done that before. I think she shocked herself, because her emotions were all over the place." My hands curled into claws on the table. "I don't know how to help her, and I don't know if I can…"

"Edward, son," Carlisle urged, stopping me. "Can't you see? You_ are _helping her."

I shook my head no.

He sighed, but a patient smile curled his mouth. "Edward, her emotions are all over the place because the walls she's built up since her father's death are starting to crumble. I won't lie to you, son. When they finally fall away, she'll shatter, but she'll be better for it. You just have to be there for her. It's obvious she trusts you."

A harsh, humorless laugh escaped me. "She shouldn't. Everything about me is a cheap façade invented to cover up the demon that I truly am. If she knew everything, all that fragile trust would simply evaporate, and she'd hate me for it. I'd be proof that she couldn't trust anyone, and she'd push me away."

"Wrong," Leah piped up, gazing at me over her mug. "If she knew everything, then your souls would connect."

"How, Leah? She barely trusts her best friend. She's been hurt before, and I'm not sure she can take it again. She'd run. If that happens, I don't know what I'll do… I can't live without her in my life in some capacity. Even these piano lessons aren't enough," I admitted to the both of them, but turned to Carlisle. "How'd you do it? How'd you stay away from Esme for so long? This is killing me."

He smiled sadly. "I left her."

I shook my head. "I can't. Maybe I'm too selfish, or maybe it's wrong, but I can't. I love that it's me that she talks to, and I can't leave that. And I can't get her to open up, only to walk away from her. No. Just…no."

Carlisle's hand landed on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "The age of consent in New York is seventeen."

"Don't be crass, Carlisle!" I growled, knocking his hand away, but he laughed. "That's not what this is about."

"Isn't it?" he countered seriously, raising an eyebrow at me. "You must understand that, if she feels the same way, which I'm sure she does, then this will be real. It will be something that eventually will come out."

I waved him away. It was something that I'd have to deal with later, but not at the moment. Even though I was feeling everything for Bella all at once, it was her emotional stability that concerned me the most at the moment.

"I don't know how you can be sure she feels the same," I muttered, giving him a side glance.

"Because he's not wrong, Edward," Leah stated, pointing to her crystal ball. "She feels the same because my grandmother told you that your soul mate would belong to you and only you." She shrugged, silently daring me to argue, which I didn't. "When the truth comes out, which it will, it will set your heart free. Never mind this age business. What in the world does that matter? Technically, you're a hundred and twenty-two."

Carlisle snorted, and I rolled my eyes at the both of them.

Leah set out her tarot cards, humming softly to herself, and pointed to them. "Nothing's changed…" She held up her hand when I opened my mouth. "Except for this: secrets revealed. Yours." She nodded once. "And look at what's still on top."

"Love," I whispered in awe, shaking my head and staring at the card that had plagued me for a hundred years. "And death? You still see three?"

"Unfortunately," she sighed, frowning at the skeleton on horseback. "Though, I don't know what type of death we're seeing here."

"What do you mean?" Carlisle asked, sitting forward.

"I mean, my grandmother called Edward's death, but he's not dead now, is he?" she countered, shrugging a shoulder. "This isn't an exact science, and I'm usually close, but that one's tricky."

"Technically, we're dead. My heart doesn't beat," I argued.

"Yet your heart is as full and big as the house we're sitting in," she snapped, glaring at me. "Don't assume that just because it stopped beating, it stopped feeling. If it had, we wouldn't be sitting here worrying about your _beautiful swan_, now would we?"

I felt thoroughly chastised, but said nothing.

"So death could mean someone becoming one of us," Carlisle surmised, sitting back in his chair.

"Or it could mean the end of a life," Leah added, grimacing a little as she nodded.

My chest ached when the next question popped out of my mouth. "Is it Bella?"

Leah's eyes softened at that, and she reached across the table and took my hand. "I don't know, sweetie. I'd have to give her my own reading. I'd have to meet her, and even then, if I saw death, I couldn't tell you which type of death."

"But…" I sighed deeply, clawing at my hair. "But you'd see her with me, right? I mean, Giselle saw my 'death,' but she saw Bella coming later. Wouldn't it be the same?"

"I don't know," Leah sighed, tapping the love card. "But this doesn't change, Edward."

Nodding, I stood up and walked around the table to kiss Leah's cheek again. "Thanks, Leah."

"Mmhm," she hummed, looking up at me. "Whatever it is you're doing, it's working."

I nodded that I'd heard her, but I said, "Please listen to Carlisle's advice, Leah. If you don't do it for us, do it for Jacob."

She looked a little guilty, and her thoughts matched her childlike pout. "You don't play fair."

I tapped my temple, winking her way. "Mind reader. I don't know how to play fair."

"Oh, pooh," she huffed, but her smile and her thoughts at least told me she'd try the diet Carlisle was suggesting.

Just before Carlisle and I walked out her door, I stopped and faced her. "What do you know about seers? Vision seers?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "They're rare. Very rare. Why? You've met one?"

"Yeah," I answered her, nodding a little. "It would be interesting to get you two in the same room."

Leah's laugh was loud and lighthearted. "I bet it would be."

Carlisle and I were quiet on the way back to the castle. We walked at a human pace, taking the path around the lake. When the castle came into view, the windows were full of activity around the dining hall. And because the night was cool and crisp, some students were eating their dinner out in the courtyard.

Bella's presence instantly called to me, and I caught sight of her and Alice sitting at the table in the corner. Her smile was small and apologetic when she saw Carlisle and me.

I turned to him. "I can't mess this up, but I feel like that's all I'm doing."

He sighed deeply. "Listen to her, Edward. Let her tell you what she needs. Everything else will fall into place."

We walked inside, and I gave one last glance to Bella before I closed the door. She seemed to be arguing with Alice, who was grinning like a loon. Leaving them to their dinner, I shut the door.

Carlisle and I separated at the back stairs with waves and promises to see each other the next day. Mentally, he was going over everything that we'd talked about with Leah, most likely getting ready to tell Esme when he got to their wing.

The very second I hit the third floor, my nose caught Bella's scent. Inhaling deeply, I realized that she'd been at the hidden door behind the tapestry recently. After a glance around to make sure the hall was empty, I ducked behind the hanging fabric and through the hidden door.

I'd all but given up on her replying back to me, so when the bright purple journal sat atop my broken piano when I stepped fully into the room, hope and nerves exploded in my chest. I had the book in my hands in the blink of an eye, racing up the broken steps and into my living quarters. Shutting and locking my door behind me, I fell down onto the edge of my sofa and stared at the book before cracking it open.

_Dear Masen Ghost (or MG for short),_

_I apologize for the delay in my answer. You gave me too much to think about. I want to still be mad at you for reading my private thoughts, but I have to admit, even an invisible mystery such as yourself is better than if my classmates got ahold of my journal. I suppose I have to take you at your word that you'll keep my secrets. They, on the other hand, would not be so kind._

_Your cryptic and dark descriptions of yourself were not much help. In fact, it only made me come up with more questions. You speak of rules, but are they forced upon you? Are you held captive in the east wing, never able to leave? __That would__ explain the destruction up there; I would've gone crazy, too, if I were trapped. Or are they self-imposed? Are they something you've learned to use in order to keep people away?_

_You mentioned fiction and fairytales, myths and beasts…and danger. The list is endless of what you COULD be. If I left it up to my friend, Alice, you'd either be Dracula, sleeping in the daytime in coffins, or you'd be Peter Pan, never growing up. The latter doesn't seem to fit. This isn't Never Never Land, there is no Captain Hook, and no fairy dust could make me fly. Though, maybe that's a lack of happy thoughts on my part. I don't know._

_I did come to the conclusion that you aren't a real ghost. I can accept a lot of strange things in life, but that isn't one of them. I can't accept that one spirit could stay behind, yet others simply go away, leaving their families, their loved __ones, alone__ to suffer without them. No, you're real…or solid, as you put it. Otherwise, you couldn't write._

_How long have you lived inside this castle? Long lives could mean anything. It could mean immortality, or simply a very old man._

_You speak of my scar, my strength, and my friends like you know me. You don't know anything._

_I rarely think about my scar. I used to cover it, but allowing it to show makes my inability to speak out loud an easier explanation. People look, they make their own conclusions, and they move on. Would I like it to go away? Probably, but I've learned to live with it._

_You may be right about my friends. I certainly see a difference __now compared__ to the ones I had before. Alice is tenacious and loyal, Rose is understanding, and my poor piano tutor, Edward, has the patience of Job. But how would you know that? How could you presume to know they weren't heartless? Can you see them? Read their minds? To have that ability would be helpful. I'd love to read Edward's mind. Sometimes, his face is a mask, though I'm sure it's to cover up the frustration of dealing with me, but sometimes, he looks at me in a way that makes my stomach flip-flop. He's as much of a mystery as you are._

_Since I've been at Masen Academy, more people have told me I'm strong than I can count. It's simply not a word I'd use to describe myself. I can't understand where it's coming from. I can't speak to people I don't know. At all. I can't raise my voice above a whisper without panicking. And I honestly don't know how to change that. Believe me, I'd love to be normal and not the freak that everyone sees, the freak that needs a doctor's __note for every__ teacher, or the freak that has to point to a menu to order something to eat. I'd love to be seen for what I CAN do, and not known as someone with "special circumstances."_

_I did write to my __father because__ he is __gone and__ I miss him. He was everything to me. And having you read my letters to him took that away. But I'm not sure I shouldn't thank you. There's a part of me that knows – deep down – that I need to let him go, but it hurts. I've been told by countless doctors that I had to let him go, but it was so much easier to go on writing to him as if it was our old chats. He used to come in my room, and we'd talk about everything. He'd sit with me and watch dumb movies and TV shows, and I miss laughing with him. He'd listen to me practice the piano for hours while he worked at his desk, always wearing a small smile that was only for me._

_I wrote to him out of __guilt because__ it's my fault he's gone. One night, we were robbed, and I thought I heard something, but I didn't wake up quickly enough. When I went to get him, it was too late. My voice was too late, and I wanted him to know I was sorry, that it should've been me that died and not him._

_See, I've seen monsters, MG – monsters with knives and ski masks that laugh when you're bleeding to death on the floor, monsters that still roam free and faceless – so your mysterious warnings didn't scare me off. The monsters scare me, but you don't. You could be a blood-drinking vampire, a snarling werewolf, or an angry centaur, but you promised not to hurt me, and I believe you._

_Who is the one person you wish could see you? You said you were hidden, but that you wanted one person to truly see you. I understand that feeling. I hope they do._

_Bella_

A dry, fruitless sob erupted out of me, and I dropped the notebook to the coffee table. My hands clawed at my hair in frustration and sadness. For the first time since I'd been changed, I prayed for real tears that would never come. Tears for her. Tears for her pain.

It was all I could do not to run to her room, to tell her just how wrong she was. She'd been a _child_ the day they'd tried to kill her, but she still blamed herself.

Suddenly, anger swelled up within me, and I snatched up the notebook, taking the hidden passageway at a run. In seconds, I was pounding on Carlisle and Esme's door.

Carlisle opened the door, and his eyebrows rose at the sight of me. "Son?"

"She blames herself," I growled, walking through the door and holding up the notebook. "They gutted her like a fucking fish and laughed as she almost died, and she blames herself!"

"Edward, sweetheart, calm down," Esme soothed, guiding me to the sofa. She was shocked at my language, but I couldn't find it in me to apologize at the moment.

"She doesn't talk because she doesn't think it did any good. She was only a _child_," I rambled, shaking my head, but my glare shot up to Carlisle. "I want them. I want them _dead_! I want them to _suffer_! I want their blood on _my_ hands!" I snarled, my hands curled into claws.

Carlisle stared at me for a moment, his expression void, but he reached down to pick up the notebook. "May I?" he asked softly, and I nodded once.

His thoughts were on the letter, his lips twitching at her wish to read my mind. But like me, anger was sharp and deadly at the sound of her fears. He handed me back the journal, starting to pace.

He turned to me, nodding a little. "I'll need the police report, but I'll see what I can do. It's a cold case, son."

"I don't care," I groaned, leaning into Esme's arm around my shoulders. "She deserves justice."

Carlisle's mind was similar to mine, but it was Esme that sealed it for us.

"Yes, she does."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… So Bella revealed a bit of the truth in her journal entry. :/ And I simply love Leah. There's no other way to put it. LOL**

**Questions: The biggest one is how long will this fic be… I don't have an answer. I see this story in sections. And I've written 15 chapters, which includes the first section I needed to reach. There are about three or four sections that need to be told. At this point, I don't have a number of chapters. Next…Bella's mother. I know you're interested in Bella's birthday. That answer comes next chapter. Lastly…Messica and Mike… this is private school filled with spoiled, self-indulgent rich teens, and I went to private school…they can be frustrating. Where there's a will, there's a way. No security is needed, and believe me, the vamps aren't stupid. Just because the students are carefully selected, doesn't mean they're angels. **

**I'm not doing a playlist for this fic, but if you're curious, the song Bella played (or at least influenced me) was "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles.**

**If you're wanting more vamps…please check out JenRar's new fic in progress **_**A Light in the Darkness**_**. It's insane good! You can find the links through my profile…she's in my fave authors.**

**Okay… See you next Thursday for the pic teasers, and again on Sunday for the update. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N… Big hugs to the ladies over at The Lemonade Stand for all their love and support. Major 'mooches to those that let me rant and allow me to blow off steam. LOL **

**Time moves a little forward here. I'll let you get to it. See me at the bottom…**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 8**

**October 2001**

**BELLA**

With a smile, I closed out Chelsea's email and opened one from my mother. I shook my head slowly as excuse after excuse filled my screen. It seemed that since I'd come to Masen Academy, my mother and stepfather finally had time to do the things they'd wanted to do. It seemed I'd been a weight on them, and they were free – so free that they'd been late with my birthday gift that had come a week late. The earrings were still in their box and tucked away in my trunk. And this time, travel would take Mom and Phil away for the week of Thanksgiving. I didn't even care where, so I closed the email before finishing it.

Alice's head popped up from the book she was reading on her bed in our dorm room. "Don't sweat it. You're not the only one staying at school that week. My parents can't afford the train ticket for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I stay."

Smiling, I glanced over at her. "Good to know."

"Besides," she chirped, getting up and coming to sit on the edge of my bed next to my desk, "the dining hall makes a helluva turkey! And no classes for a week, so we can go into Hunter's Lake, chill out in here, and pretty much have the run of the place. There are usually a handful of us that stay behind."

Chuckling, I nodded. As fun as that sounded, I'd been looking forward to seeing Chelsea and going home for a week, but it looked like that wouldn't happen until Christmas break.

"Best part?" she continued. "Mike and Messica go home…you know, photo ops for the parental units."

Now that _was_ good news. A whole week without the two of them casting nasty glances my way, without Jessica's snide remarks about us, and without hearing Mike brag about whatever the two of them got up to when they thought no one was looking. And he always seemed to say those things whenever I was near, as if his sexual conquests were points in his favor. The thought was disgusting, perhaps because it was Mike. Actually, I was pretty sure it was because it was him.

Alice rolled off my bed and walked to our window. "Sweet Jesus, that's a lot of pretty right there."

Giggling at her, I got up from my desk, thinking she was ogling Jasper again. However, my heart pounded at who was with him.

Edward.

"That really is unfair," she sighed, looking to me. "Can you imagine what happens when the two them step into a bar?"

Groaning at the thought, I swatted at her like she was a buzzing fly. I tried my damnedest not to think of Edward with other women, but Alice had a point. The two men currently talking outside by Jasper's big pickup truck could easily have their choice in women – or men, for that matter. They were simply gorgeous…and opposites of one another, really. Edward was dark and mysterious, carrying himself with a sexy confidence. Jasper was laidback, calm, and quick with a crooked smile my way. As if they'd heard me, both glanced up at the window, and I sighed, walking back to my desk.

"You know, they have the same color eyes," Alice noted, still shamelessly leaning in the window. She didn't care if Jasper caught her staring. "I've heard they're adopted brothers or some shit. Cousins, maybe?"

"Adopted means their eyes wouldn't be the same," I whispered, going back to my laptop, though I'd noticed it, too, and not just with Jasper, but with Dr. Cullen and Mrs. C, as well.

"I know, but I swear I overheard Jacob say something about them being related somehow," Alice countered, but turned from the window with a smirk. "Edward looks upset that you left the window."

Snorting, I waved her away again. "He's mad at me."

"How's that possible?" she asked, plopping back down on the edge of the bed. "The day I met him at Mrs. C's place, he looked at you like the sun rose and set out of your ass."

I sighed, rolling my eyes and shaking my head as I typed out notes for my history report. "Maybe not mad… Frustrated."

Alice's face softened, but she nodded. "Still having trouble with the song?"

I nodded, grimacing a little. It had been almost two weeks since Edward cut our lesson early, and he'd cancelled last Friday. I was supposed to see him again tomorrow, and I wasn't sure how it would go. I'd been an emotional basket case our last session. Between opening up to MG in the journal, which had gone unanswered so far, and realizing that I spoke more to Edward than I did to anyone else, I'd been all over the place. It didn't help that my feelings for Edward were growing by leaps and bounds.

Pulling up a blank document, I starting typing to her.

_Our last piano lesson was a disaster, Alice. We got nothing done, and I was a mess._

"Why?" she asked, scooting closer.

_He pointed out that I'd answered him verbally all session, and it scared me._

She nudged me to go on, so I did.

_What if he's the only person that I can ever talk to like that? What if the reason is because I feel more for him than a school girl crush?_

Alice giggled, but made me look her way. "And that would be bad…why? He's gorgeous, and he likes you."

Shaking my head, I kept typing._ He's getting paid to like me. And exactly…he's gorgeous and perfect and twenty-two and sweet and… Do I need to go on?_

"You can," she said with a laugh.

_He's all these things, and I'm…just me. I'm only seventeen and scarred and a freak. I bet he leaves our piano lessons and drinks heavily to get over it. Or maybe he drinks heavily BEFORE them. I would._

"Stop it!" She laughed, shoving me a little. "He's not a drunk, for God's sake! And from what I heard, he wasn't acting like a paid employee when he swooped into the library that day. Angela said he looked like he was about to tear the place apart when he found you." She reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear. "So why is talking out loud to him a bad thing, Bella?"

Tears welled up in my eyes when I looked over at her. "'Cause I can't keep him, Alice," I whispered, going back to the keyboard.

_I think I love him, and I can't keep him. He's older and beautiful, and one day, he'll move on. And I don't know if I can take it. What if I open myself up to him and he just…leaves? __He canceled last week's lesson. __I'm too much to deal with, __Alice. Even__ my own mother can't deal with me. What on __earth__ makes me think that Edward could?_

Alice frowned, looking from the screen, to my face, and back again. "What do you mean, your own mother can't 'deal' with you?"

"Forget it," I hissed, slamming my laptop closed.

Before I could move from my chair to my bed, Alice had me in a hug – a tight, rib-crushing hug.

"Come on," she said, releasing me and grabbing my hand. "We need chocolate."

Snorting at her a little, I let her drag me from the room and down to the dining hall, where we gorged ourselves on chocolate cake and huge glasses of milk.

**~oOo~**

My feet dragged me slowly toward the auditorium the next day. There was a part of me that didn't think Edward would be there. But when I stepped inside the large room, he was already pulling the chalkboard to the center of the stage.

He looked ridiculously gorgeous, wearing black jeans, a white T-shirt, and black hoodie with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows. As usual, his hair made my fingers ache to push it off his forehead. And my heart cracked a little down the middle when his heartbreaking smile lit up his face.

"Hello, Bella," he said, his smooth tone echoing a little in the large, empty room.

The sound of his voice, which usually made me calm, set me on edge a bit. I waved his way, dropping my music folder onto the piano bench. Suddenly, I wanted to know why he'd canceled the last week and whether or not he wanted to be there, because if he didn't, I wanted to rip the band-aid off as quickly as possible and get it over.

Walking over to the board, I snatched up a piece of chalk.

_Why are you here?_

I looked to Edward, who looked pained, but he asked, "So we're back to this, Bella? Really?"

I tapped the question with the chalk hard enough that a chip or two shot off onto the stage floor.

His eyes narrowed on me and then the question, but his arms folded across his chest when he answered. "It's Friday and time for our session," he replied slowly.

_You were gone,_ I wrote. _If you don't want to be here, then tell me now. I'll let your aunt know it's my fault. I'll deal with Mr. __Harris or__ stop playing altogether._

"No!" he yelled, but calmed himself. "No, Bella. Stop. Sit down, please?" Once I sat down on the piano bench, he knelt before me. "You're mad. I'm sorry I canceled last week. I needed to go out of town that weekend, and I thought…maybe…" He sighed, sinking his fingers into his hair. "I thought maybe I was pushing you too hard, Bella. I thought a break from this would be a good idea."

"For who?" I whispered, frowning at him. "You, or me?"

He smiled at the sound of my voice. "You, sweetheart. You were upset the last time we were here. I just…didn't want to push too far. It would kill me to think that anything I did hurt you."

My brow furrowed as I shook my head at him, because that statement sounded familiar. MG had basically said the same thing in his last letter, but I shook it off. I figured I'd seen the last of the purple journal. But that was the second time he'd called me sweetheart, and I was really starting to like it.

"I'm not giving up on you, Bella," he vowed, lowering his head so that I had no choice but to look into his honey eyes. "Did you think that's what I was doing?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "Everyone does."

"Well, not me," he stated firmly. "You're kinda stuck with me."

I shook my head. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

He chuckled a little, looking down at the floor and shaking his head. When his eyes met mine again, he said, "Guess I just have to prove it." When I didn't say anything, his brow furrowed. "I told you that I didn't take your trust lightly, Bella. I meant it."

"Okay," was all I could say to that, but it at least made him smile.

"Okay," he echoed, standing up. "Now, I have an idea on what to do today. Something a little different."

"Where'd you go?" I suddenly blurted out in a whisper.

He froze for a second, but then he turned to face me. "To visit a friend in Manhattan. I got back on Tuesday."

My heart broke a little, but I nodded in acceptance. The thought of Edward spending a long weekend in the arms of some flawless, beautiful woman made me sick to my stomach, and I couldn't look at him for a moment, so I faced the piano.

"He's a finance lawyer, and I'm still dealing with my parents' estate," he stated, his brow furrowing when my head shot up to look at him. "He had papers I needed to sign. Why do you ask?"

Shaking my head, I waved him off. He snorted a little, but dragged the piano bench away from the piano. His face appeared in front of me as he knelt again.

"You rarely ask me anything, Bella. Please tell me why you asked that," he begged softly.

My face heated, and I groaned. "I just…maybe you…went to see your girlfriend."

His smile was sweet, but he shook his head. "You thought I canceled on you to go see a girl? Impossible! You're the only girl in my life, Bella. I promise."

Rolling my eyes at his hand on his chest and his smirk, I pushed him away, pointing to the piano.

"Yes, work, but get up. I'm gonna play. You're gonna do something different," he stated, waiting until I stood up before he set the bench back in its place. He pointed to a desk he'd pulled out from backstage, with a pencil and a piece of paper on top. "I'm going to play, and I want you to write a memory that goes with it."

I paled at the thought, but he tilted my head up when I shook it. "I can't, Edward."

"A good memory, Bella. A happy one. I hear it in the beginning of your song, so I know it's in there," he said, tapping my temple. "Let me have it. I'm not asking you to speak about it, but write it."

I stared at the paper, whispering, "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," he stated, sitting down to the piano. "Just…try. For me."

I took my seat at the little desk, my eyes narrowing on the smile that I was now convinced he was using as a weapon against me. Without taking his eyes from me, he started my song. He was better at it than I was, if I was being honest…or maybe it was just nice to hear someone else play it for a change. Someone that didn't have an emotional connection to it, though he played it like he did.

I glared at the blank page in front of me, picking up the pencil and letting the notes swirl around me. How did he do this? How did he make it seem okay? Frowning, I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering why I'd started the song in the first place.

Before I knew it, I was writing, and it didn't take long to fill a page. I set the pencil down with shaky fingers, and Edward's hand appeared in my vision.

"May I?" he asked softly.

I nodded in answer, trying to shake off the exposed feeling that the memory brought with it, and he gently pulled the page away. I couldn't look at him as he read it. My nerves felt raw.

I'd started writing my song as a bet with my dad. He'd teased me that I couldn't do it, but I'd wanted to prove him wrong, which I suppose was his intention. We'd spent the day together, just the two of us – movie and pizza afterward. My mom was taking some sort of art class, so we'd walked around a little shopping area to wait for her, stopping at my favorite music store for blank sheet music and a new song or two. I'd loved those days. I missed them more than anything.

Edward dragged the piano bench over, sitting down on the edge. He seemed to be waiting for me to look his way. When I did, he simply said, "Thank you, Bella."

Nodding, I let out a deep breath.

"How old were you?" he asked softly.

"Almost thirteen."

"Impressive," he praised, smiling a little when I glanced up at him. "You started composing at twelve, Bella. That's something to be very proud of. What did your dad say about losing his bet?"

I shrugged. "He never…heard it finished. It…I was thirteen when…" I stammered softly, toying with my charm bracelet.

Edward's hand covered mine. His touch was cool, but the auditorium was always kind of chilly. There were no windows, and fall was well underway. Despite his cool touch, the same warmth spread through my hand and up my arm.

"I'm not asking about that, Bella," he soothed. When I glanced his way, he shook his head and turned the paper over to the blank side. "I would like one more today. The second part of your song."

"No," I stated softly, shaking my head. The second part came after my dad's funeral.

Edward took a deep breath and let it out. "Okay," he stated, standing up from the bench. "I won't push, Bella, but come here." He moved the bench back to the piano, patting the space beside him.

I did as he asked, trying not to stare too long at his long, muscular thighs in jeans that should be illegal. I tried not to think about what he was going to ask of me.

He placed his hands on the keys, but before he played, he said, "Maybe it's unfair to ask you to tell me about your song without doing the same, hmm?"

Glancing up at him, I studied his face. He wasn't looking my way, and his sharp jaw rolled as he gritted his teeth.

"You don't—"

"No," he sighed, looking to me, "I do."

He started playing, and the influences had to be the same as mine: the classics. The notes flowed beautifully, like water over rocks. It switched to something almost tedious, and then angry, finally settling on something sad. However, the end was stunning and beautiful and full of hope and what sounded like love.

When he was finished, he looked slowly around the auditorium. "You're not the only one that wrote a song about their life, Bella." He looked down at me. "Despite what you think, the song is about _you_, not your dad. It's everything you're feeling or have ever felt." He smiled so sadly that it made tears spring up in my eyes. "I started _my_ song for my mother. She loved that I played. My father, on the other hand, didn't share her…enthusiasm. He was a cold, hard man that wanted me to follow in his footsteps, to be a lawyer like he was. One night, he'd had too much to drink, and he took it out on my mother like he usually did. He passed out, and normally, he would sleep it off, going about his life the next day. Only this time," he stated, holding up a finger and smiling ruefully, "he woke up…still drunk. And he was even angrier than before. He picked up a gun, aimed it at my mother, pulled the trigger, and then took his own life."

I gasped, staring at the strong man at my side. I couldn't understand how he could be so perfect and normal after having been through that. I wasn't sure I could've stopped myself if I tried, but I threw my arms around him in a hug. He was solidly muscular and smelled so damn good, but I couldn't stop my tears.

He froze for a moment, but then his arms came around me. "Don't you dare feel sorry for me, Bella," he said, and I could feel his lips on the top of my head.

I shook my head, but sobbed, "I'm sorry."

"Don't cry. I hate it when you cry," he whispered into my hair. His hand ran flat over my head and down my back over and over. "Look at me, please," he pleaded gently. He cupped my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. "No more tears. He doesn't deserve them."

"You do," I argued.

His smile was sweet and sad and almost shy. "I'd rather have smiles."

I sniffled and giggled at the same time.

"Better," he said with a chuckle.

We were quiet for a moment, but his story gave me bravery. To know I wasn't alone was something empowering. I grabbed my sheet music and pointed to each section.

"This…is anger," I told him, looking up at his shocked face. "I wasn't allowed to talk, but I was angry after my dad's funeral." I flipped the page. "Emptiness. No one could help me, and my mother stopped wasting the doctor's time."

His brow furrowed, but he stayed quiet.

"Last…fear. Nightmares." I reached up to touch my scar. "They're still out there," I whispered.

Edward swallowed nervously, but pulled my hand away gently. I shivered when his thumb lightly dragged over my scar. His eyes were dark, almost black when I looked into them.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. "And _that_, Bella, is what makes you strong, whether you see it or not."

I shrugged, because I wasn't sure what to say to that, but the feel of his lips on me sent my heart into overdrive.

He took the pages from me, holding them up. "It's about _you_. Once you realize that, then you'll see the end."

My brow furrowed, but I nodded. "I need—"

"Time," he finished for me, and I nodded. "You have time, and I'll help you. Like I said, I'm not going anywhere."

I let out a deep breath and nodded. I wasn't quite sure if he meant for now, or until I finished my song.

"I think that's enough for today," he said, standing up from the bench.

Nodding, I stood up and gathered my things together. I looked his way before I left the stage. No one had ever tried this hard for me. Ever.

"Don't quit on me," I whispered, silently begging him to understand.

He smiled. "Never. See you next Friday, Bella…"

"If not sooner," I finished with him.

He chuckled. "Exactly."

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

When the doors to the auditorium had closed behind Bella, I sank to my knees with a groan. We'd crossed some sort of emotional bridge…or met in the middle. I wasn't sure which. What I did know was that it had taken every bit of my self-control to not kiss her right there on the piano bench. I didn't even know if I _could_ kiss her, but I wanted to. Badly.

The feel of her scar beneath my thumb was something I'd never forget. I'd drawn it a thousand times waiting for the reality of her, but to touch the real thing was humbling. It was rough, yet smooth at the same time. It pulsed heavily beneath my touch, and just knowing that I'd almost lost her to the animals that had killed her father made me almost feral. It made me want to promise her their heads on a silver platter, but I couldn't.

However, it was her plea not to give up on her that brought me to my knees. Carlisle had said to let her lead me, to let her tell me what she could and couldn't do, but we had so much in common that I didn't even stop myself when it came to telling her about my parents. I'd told her more about me in this last session than I ever had. And certainly more than MG had.

I took a few deep breaths and let them out, standing up from the stage floor. I needed to answer her last journal entry, but I'd been too busy…and scared, if I were being honest with myself. She saw so much, her mind sharp and brilliant. If I gave her any more clues, I'd have a problem on my hands. Though there was a side of me that wanted her to know everything.

I took my time heading back to the east wing. I didn't want to be happy that she'd been jealous of my trip, but a smile curled up my lips nevertheless. She thought I'd been with a woman? Was she serious? Thinking back, I'd never told her otherwise, and I supposed that if the tables were turned, I would've assumed the same. She'd tried so damn hard to hide it, but I saw it all over her face, and all I could see was that she was mine. Leah had been right.

I walked into my living quarters to see Jasper pacing in my living room.

"Whoa!" he hissed, stumbling back. "What the hell, Edward?"

Grinning, I shrugged a shoulder. I could see in his mind what I was putting off – happiness, sadness, worry, love, and lust. The latter was what was sending my brother into an emotional spin.

"Sorry," I said with a laugh.

"Um, good piano lesson, brother?" he asked wryly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Very." I grinned, but it fell quickly. "She _finally_ opened up a little. And she's so afraid that everyone's just gonna give up on her! Her own mother? Seriously?"

Jasper frowned, holding up his cell phone. "Well, there may be a reason for that. I talked to Jenks."

Once Carlisle had gotten ahold of the police report from Boston, Jasper had wanted to help. He had illegal connections, one of whom I'd gone to see in New York. He worked underground for us, never asking questions if the pay was big enough. I'd gone to meet with him for Jacob's new identifications, but while I was there, I hand-delivered something I'd wanted him to look into: the Swan residence and its estate. I'd also wanted backgrounds on Philip Dwyer and Renee Higginbotham-Swan-Dwyer, but I wanted the ugly and secret as well as the public information. If I was going to find the bastards that had tried to kill my mate, then I'd need to start at the beginning.

Carlisle had paid a high price for everything, including the autopsy report on Charlie Swan. He had yet to receive them, but it would be any day now. He'd promised me that he'd look into it as deeply as possible.

"Tell me," I stated, sitting down on the sofa.

"Jenks followed the financial paper trail on Charlie Swan," he told me, sitting down across from me and dropping a stack of papers that he'd printed from the computer. "Bella's dad…he knew something. He had to have known _something_."

"Why?" I asked, grabbing the pages and reading them for myself, but Jasper went on.

"The Swans are a long line of old money," he said, getting up and starting to pace. "Your girl…she's gonna be really well off when she turns eighteen." His voice held a bit of awe to it, but he snorted humorlessly. "Though, I get the feeling she couldn't care less."

I shook my head. "No, probably not," I agreed with him, but glanced up when his thoughts went blank. "What?"

He took a deep breath and let it out. "Charlie was a federal judge…and a decent one. Which means at one point, he was a lawyer. His will and life insurance policies are..._were_ specific, like really fucking detailed. And he'd changed them…just a few months before he died."

My eyes widened, and I flipped through the pages to see what he was talking about.

"Oh hell," I sighed, shaking my head. "You're joking, right?"

"No," he answered softly. "Jenks double-checked everything, even went as far as calling Bella's accountant. See…Bella can't touch it, not until she's eighteen, but in there, it allows for her mother to get an allowance to take care of her – basic needs, food, shelter, school, clothes…that sort of thing. It's a fairly decent allowance; most people don't make that much in a year, and it'll hardly make a dent in what she gets in the end."

He sat down in front of me. "Edward, I think Charlie knew someone was coming for him. He changed his will to give everything to Bella. Everything. Her mother wasn't allowed to touch it."

"I see that," I sighed, flipping through the will. "What do we know about her?"

"Nothing." He shook his head and shrugged. "She's clean. She's not exactly from a poor family, but she's nowhere near what the Swans were…are…damn." His sadness at what we could possibly find out about Bella was radiating out of him and filled his thoughts. "Are you _sure_ you wanna do this, brother?"

Guilt consumed me for a moment, but I nodded. "I need to make her safe, Jasper. She's scared to death that someone is still out there. That they'll come for her."

Jasper growled, shaking his head. "Not a fucking chance."

"Exactly." I went back to the papers. "Okay, so a few months before Charlie died, he changed his will and the beneficiary of his life insurance. He then set up a detailed trust fund, making sure that no one could take anything from Bella." Jasper nodded, and I went on, pointing to one spreadsheet. "It could be that Renee simply has bad spending habits. Her credit cards were constantly maxed out with Charlie paying them."

"Keep going," he said, sitting back in the chair.

Reading more, I could see what he wanted me to find. "When she turns eighteen, Renee loses her really high monthly paycheck. Oh hell…"

"Ding, ding, ding…there it is," he sang, though he was pissed. "Look at the clause, though." He sat forward, tapping the middle of the page. "Should something happen to Bella, or she be deemed incapable of living a normal life, or become incapacitated in some way... Only _then_ does her mother get it all."

"Oh Jesus, Jasper!"

"Yeah, I don't have to read minds to see that you came to the same conclusion that I did. There may be a reason Bella's scared."

"She may be living with the person that killed her father…or at least knew something about it." I groaned, sinking my fingers into my hair. "If Renee didn't have a part in it, she still would stand to gain everything. But it's her _mother_!"

"I know. Jenks is looking into the stepfather as we speak."

Sadness swept over me, my own mainly, but Jasper had no choice but to multiply it. "Jasper…Bella said…she said her mother gave up on her recovery. And Esme said that Renee had only given Masen Academy a year… That still gives them plenty of time to take her…lack of speech and use it against her."

Jasper nodded. "Yeah, they would be well within their rights as her parents to have her deemed mentally ill."

"Or kill her."

"No! You think?" he growled.

We were both quiet for a moment, but I glanced up at him. "What happens to the money if something happens to Bella _after _she turns eighteen?"

"That's really up to Bella. She could make anyone her beneficiary," Jasper answered. "Although, right now…it's her mother."

"I want to know about her stepfather the second Jenks does, okay?" I begged him, and he nodded, getting up from the chair.

"Yeah, and I'm looking into the trials Charlie was presiding over, too. I'm going to go back about five years. That should do it," he told me. "Though, most of them were in the police report." He stopped, turning to me before he opened the door. "Edward, what are you gonna do if the trail runs cold?"

I sat back on the sofa, rubbing my face roughly. "I don't know." I sighed deeply, looking his way and then to the floor. "But I have to keep her safe, Jasper. She's my mate."

His thoughts turned sad, and then a little angry, but I caught the tail-end of it anyway.

"Brother, one day, you'll come to me about Alice," I told him, looking up from the floor. He looked chastised, but angry at me. "I let you have space because it's not my life, but you can't hide it from me…and neither can Jacob." I raised an eyebrow at him.

He huffed a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "You had enough going on…"

Smiling his way, I shrugged. "What are you going to do?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I've tried to just let her be, to push her away, but…"

"It's impossible," I said with a laugh. "And believe it or not, I'm damn sure that Esme put them together for a reason."

Jasper barked out a laugh. "And neither one of them are stupid."

"No." I shook my head, grinning a little. "Definitely not."

He leaned against my door, folding his arms across his chest when I picked up Bella's purple journal. I thumbed through it, trying to decide what to say…_if _I replied at all.

"Is it wrong to hope they figure it all out?" he asked softly.

Smiling ruefully, I shrugged. "Then we'd both be wrong, I think."

"What are you going to do when Bella figures out that you're the same person who's writing to her?" he asked with a laugh.

"Fall on my knees and beg her for forgiveness, but nothing I've ever told her in here," I said, holding up the journal, "or in our piano lessons has been a lie."

"You'd just better hope she can accept that you're both," he said with a chuckle. "Or she'll be pissed."

"Not pissed," I sighed, staring at the blank page that was waiting for my answer to fill it. "Hurt, but I don't regret a minute of getting to know her. Not one second…in either form."

"You think it would've been different had she been able to talk?"

"Maybe."

He nodded like he'd suspected as much. "What'cha gonna say this time?"

Picking up a pen, I twirled it in my fingers, finally looking his way. "How I waited a hundred years for her…and it was worth it."

He said nothing to that, but left me alone. I spent the next hour or so simply writing to Bella, hoping that I was doing the right thing. There was a part of me – and I wasn't so sure if it wasn't the part that was winning – that was ready for Bella to know me…the real me. All of it. It was beginning to hurt trying to stay away from her. I just wanted her to know that she had someone fighting for her, who loved her and wouldn't give up on her. Ever. The pull to her was too strong, and I'd seen in our piano session today that maybe…just _maybe _that it was the same for her, too.

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Lots of info in this one. Lots of emotions, too. And Edward finally called Jasper out on Alice. **

**Not really any questions this time, but I did want to thank Brenda (zeeber), Pamela (DrivingEdward), and Jodi (inkedupmom) for an amazing time this past weekend! It was a blast! I've never laughed and talked so much! :D Thank you for lunch and all my birthday gifts, too! :) **

**Okay, I'll see you Thursday for the pic teases and then again on Sunday for the update. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N… Okay, so it's official… You're all hating on Bella's parentals, specifically Renee. I'll say nothing to that and keep going.**

**I'll step out of your way. See me at the bottom. :)**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 9**

**October 2001**

**BELLA**

The sound of shattering glass made me sit up. I struggled in my covers, knowing and feeling that I was dreaming, but I couldn't wake myself up. Knowing I was in a dream was what made them that much scarier, because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't change anything.

I wasn't in my room at Masen. I was in my bedroom back in Boston. The moonlight beamed in through my window, causing the simplest things like furniture and a laundry basket to cast strange and eerie shadows across the floor. Staying perfectly still, I listened to the house. The sound of the ticking clock on my wall, the sound of a car's radio driving by outside, and finally…the creak of the sixth step coming up from the living room.

Tears filled my eyes because I knew what was next. I'd wait, I'd run across the hallway to my parents' room, and I'd relive it all over again. Unable to stop, I watched my own feet slip down to the floor and cross my room as my hand reached for the doorknob.

Darting across the hallway, I shoved open my parents' bedroom door. I froze when two figures yanked my father from his bed.

"Bella, run! Scream!" Dad yelled, but his voice was stopped short when the blade sliced across his throat.

"Daddy!" I screamed, but I'd waited too long, and the men grabbed me hard, tugging my head back by the hair.

I never felt the blade, but the sound of it slicing through my skin was something that I couldn't forget. It sounded a bit like paper ripping, or a butcher slicing meat. And the warmth that spilled down my neck and over my chest was strange in comparison to the cold I felt everywhere else.

"So much for screaming," one of the men said with a laugh, stepping over me. "Let's get this shit done."

I rolled over to crawl to my dad, but the dream changed. The sound of splintering wood and snarls met my ears. I tried to see, but the only thing I could do was stay there on the floor.

"No one will touch you again, Bella. I swear it on my life," I heard next to my ear, and it was the sweetest voice, the velvet tone that calmed me every single time.

"Eh…" I tried to call Edward's name, but no sound could come from me.

"Shh, sweetheart. Sleep in peace."

A cool touch met my forehead, and then everything faded away. I gasped awake, clawing at my throat. Gazing around my dorm room, I groaned at its emptiness. It was Sunday, and Alice was most likely down at the dining hall. I collapsed back onto my pillow, giving the clock on my nightstand a glare. It was only nine in the morning. But my heart stopped at what was sitting by the clock.

The purple journal.

My brow furrowed, and I looked around my room again. Nothing was different, nothing had been disturbed, but the notebook sat there all the same. My dream came back to me in flashes, though it was already starting to fade. The true parts remained, but I could've sworn that Edward had been in my dream, that he'd spoken to me.

I let out a deep breath, rubbing my face, but snatched up the notebook and opened it.

_Beautiful Bella,_

_You need to know this first… I speak of your strength because you are indeed strong. Not many could go through the things you have and still be standing. You're strong whether you know it or not. The fact that you carry a guilt for your father's death proves it. However, it wasn't your fault. You need to know that. You fear monsters, Bella, but what you fail to realize is that when evil wants something, it tends to simply take. As much as I wish it differently, they took…and they took too much from you. Even your father would tell you that it wasn't your fault. He would also tell you that monsters with ski masks and knives can overpower frightened girls in the middle of the night. There was nothing you could've done. Nothing. It wasn't your fault, but I swear to you that you are safe now._

_I can't answer all of your questions, Bella, but I can try to clear SOME things up. You've trusted me with your past, and it's time I trusted you with mine. What I have to tell you could destroy me, should it fall into the wrong hands, but I feel it's only fair._

_The rules I mentioned… Are they imposed on me? Or are they some sort of self-preservation? Yes, and…well, yes. It would not be accepted for people to know about me. And due to my differences, it was always best to lie about what I am. Fear and ignorance can cause human beings to react harshly and sometimes irrationally._

_You're right; I am not a ghost, not in the true sense of the word, though I have been living like one for a very long time. I'd love to tell you everything, Bella, and my hope is that __someday, I__ can, but what I am is a man that had his choices taken away a very long time ago._

_You asked me who it is that I wanted to truly see me, __but Bella__, you already have. I've waited so long for you that __sometimes, you__ don't seem real. It seems as if YOU are the ghost. Have you ever been told something you didn't quite believe? Or maybe you believed it at first, but time or life hardened you into losing faith? I wanted so badly to cling to the idea of you, but my years were long and dark, making me doubt everything._

_I've tried to live my life the best I could, and I've been lucky that I'm surrounded by like-minded individuals – a family, really. There are some out there like me that can't say the same, and that's why I warned you of danger. While I could never hurt you, there are some that would. I used to think us all the same, but I see now that we're not._

_I misspoke when I told you of myths and fairytales. Not all that is written is accurate. While some things are MOSTLY correct, the truth is usually overshadowed by fiction._

_I know you're so very smart, and it's possible you'll put it all together soon enough, which scares me more than anything because I don't know what I'll do if you shun me. If you do, I hope that you can forgive me one day. It wasn't my intention to mislead you or lie or even scare you. You'd been through so much that my first instinct was to let you be, but I can't. I'm forever a different man, a better man thanks to you. My God, have you ever changed me! __In a very short time, you've become the best part of me, Bella, and each time I see you...each time we speak, it only makes me more sure that you were worth every second of the wait._

_I realize that I've probably said too much, and yet, not enough, that I won't hear from you again, and that's okay, Bella, I completely understand._

_MG_

I stared at the beautiful penmanship for the longest time. I'd already memorized every swirl and curl, especially my name. It seemed MG wrote it so that it would stand out.

Nothing in that letter made any sense. It was just as vague as before, but maybe I wasn't awake enough to see the details, the clues he always seemed to toss in there. It was as if he was fighting with himself to simply spill it all out onto the page. He'd start to answer, but trail off into nothing. It was maddening.

He'd ignored some of my questions, which made me wonder if I'd been too close to the mark for him to be able to answer. If he was some sort of non-human, mythical being, then he couldn't just slap that answer down in ink for all the world to see should it fall into the wrong hands.

Snorting to myself, I wondered if I'd lost my mind. Was I seriously considering that he wasn't…human? Though, I honestly had no choice, since he referenced himself that way almost every time.

I scrubbed my face as his new list of statements rattled around in my brain. He didn't say his secret would kill him…he said "destroy," which seemed much more dramatic…or fearful. More than once did time factor into his point: "a long time ago," "very long life," "years were long and dark," and "forever a different man."

But it was the stuff about me that I kept going back to. How could he have waited for me? And just how much did he "see" me? He'd said that every time we spoke, he knew I was worth the wait. Did that mean we actually talked? Or did he mean every time I dropped this notebook off in the east wing? I didn't "talk" to many people – mainly Edward, occasionally to Rose, and more and more to Alice.

Frowning at that, I slammed the notebook closed and glared at its purple cover. A whiff of that sweet and comforting scent washed over me. Bringing the cover to my nose, I inhaled, my eyes closing. The pages were drenched in it. Instead of the faint haze I'd catch in the east wing, this was pure and thick and perfect. It was something altogether unique to that room…or to this person. It was a scent so good, so perfect, that I wished I could bathe in it.

I dropped the notebook to my lap, taking a deep breath and letting it out as I reread his first statement. Tears welled up in my eyes. The dream was still sharp and colorful in my mind, so seeing his words felt like punches to fresh bruises. MG didn't know what he was saying. That night, my father's murder _was_ my fault. I should've run, I should've screamed when I heard the window shatter, or I should've set the alarm off in the hallway, but I didn't do any of it.

Swiping the tears away, I hid the notebook under my pillow. Despite how much I loved sharing MG with Alice, something about this last letter made me want to hide him, protect him, keep him to myself. Maybe it was the scared undertone of his letter, like he was completely terrified of me knowing anything, but I'd keep his secret. I just wasn't sure I knew what to say back to him. I wanted to yell at him for assuming what my dad would say, but deep down, I knew MG was right. I wanted to demand answers from him. But mostly, I was confused. I just couldn't understand how I could mean so much to someone I didn't know.

Finally, I got up out of bed and padded into the bathroom. I needed to wash away the sweat and tears from my nightmare before Alice saw it. I wasn't sure if she knew about them, but I didn't want her to worry. And as I stepped under the spray, I tried to wash away the feelings of my scary memories that had meshed with my reality. Edward was too beautiful to drag into my ugly past.

**~oOo~**

**November 2001**

"Bella, you're not focusing," Edward chided, though his grin was hilarious.

Giggling, I shrugged and pulled my hands away from the piano. "Sorry."

Folding his arms across his chest, he tilted his head at me. "It's like trying to catch smoke with my hands today. It's because today is the last day before Thanksgiving break, right?"

"Maybe," I whispered, grinning when he chuckled.

"Fine, fine," he sighed dramatically, slapping the sheet music down in defeat. "You going home?"

My smile fell, and I shook my head. "No."

Most of the students were catching the train in the morning, which would take them to New York's Penn Station, and from there, they'd either continue on to their destinations or head to the airport. They wouldn't return until the next weekend. Alice and I were really excited that we would be two of only four girls left in the dorm, and we'd heard rumors that there were about the same amount of guys staying behind. We couldn't wait for the place to be practically empty, or maybe we simply couldn't wait for Mike and Messica to leave.

"What? Why not?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the top of the piano.

He really was too much to look at, sometimes. Today, he was torturing me with plaid. It was ridiculous that anyone could make plaid sexy – my uniform was far from it – but he pulled it off with flying colors. Fashionably faded jeans paired with a plain white T-shirt was one thing, but an open blue plaid shirt topped it off.

Frowning at the question, I met his gaze. "Um, my mom and stepdad are out of town. His family. Phoenix."

A brief flash of anger crossed his beautiful face, but a small smile grew quickly. "Well, you're in luck, Bella. I believe my aunt is cooking the turkey this year since most of the staff is leaving the castle for the holiday."

"You?" I asked.

"I'll be here," he replied instantly with a nod and my favorite crooked smile. "It's a break from endless teen chatter."

Laughing, I rolled my eyes at his teasing. "Yeah, 'cause I never shut up."

He tsked, throwing his hands up. "It's constant, Bella. We should do something about it."

I threw a paper wad at his head, and he dodged it nicely. I loved him like this – all silly and teasing. It was my favorite side of Edward. I loved that my scar and my lack of speech didn't bother him, especially on days when I simply couldn't form words. He rolled with every emotional punch I threw his way.

My other favorite side of Edward was his musical side. He'd sat me down with my song, and we really worked on it. After he'd told me about his parents and he'd played me his own song, I'd taken a few days and simply thought about my own composition. Edward had been right; the song was about me, _my_ feelings, not my dad. He'd told me that while my dad was a tremendous influence on the song, which was understandable, it was the points of my life and the emotions I was dealing with that was the true target.

Armed with that new knowledge, we'd been able to add a new section to the song. It still wasn't complete, but it was more than I'd been able to accomplish in well over a year.

What Edward didn't know was that the new part of the song was about the recent changes in my life, though he probably suspected it. The notes were tentative and a touch fearful, but there was a soft, yet happy undertone. However, the best part had been his excited hug when I'd gotten it just right.

Edward picked up the paper wad and held it up. "I'm telling my aunt that you're throwing things at me."

I snorted at him and rolled my eyes, but the woman in question was walking down the auditorium aisle. Grinning her way, I shrugged.

Mrs. C's laugh was musical. "Did he deserve it, Bella?"

I nodded, knocking the balled-up paper away when he threw it back at me. "Yup."

Her honey-colored eyes danced between us when she joined us on the stage next to the piano. "I guess I don't have to ask how things are going. I heard you playing. That's fantastic, Bella."

Smiling gratefully her way, I shrugged one shoulder.

"Despite the fact that she's got the attention span of a fly today," Edward growled playfully, laughing when I threatened him with another paper ball, "she's doing amazing. You're right; Harris wouldn't have been able to concentrate on her."

My brow furrowed, but internally, I was happy that Edward was proud of me.

Mrs. C tapped her temple, wearing a smirk. "Sometimes, I have good ideas."

Giggling at his belligerent eye roll at her, I started to pack up my things.

"Yeah, you're a genius," he chortled, shaking his head. "So why are you here on _my time_?" he asked her, and the slight growl he put into the last two words made me want to moan aloud at how sexy that sounded. I barely kept it in check.

"I'm allowed to check on you," she countered haughtily. "You're technically on _my time_."

Edward sighed, wearing a small smile while shaking his head. "And?"

Smiling at their banter, I could see that he respected her, but even more…he loved her. A sweet warmth softened his facial features as he looked at her. And it was the same the other way around. I'd heard rumors that Dr. and Mrs. Cullen couldn't have children, and I wasn't sure how true that was, except she seemed to look at Edward like a loving mother. That thought made me happy. If he'd lost his own parents, at least someone was looking out for him.

"I was sent here, actually," Mrs. C said, seeming to communicate to Edward with her eyes. "Carlisle told me to tell you to go see him when you're finished here. He's finally had a chance to look over that package he received."

Edward nodded, his face going from the fun, silly thing to something much more serious, but his eyes caught sight of me. I waved, pointing toward the auditorium doors to let him know I was leaving.

"Not yet, Bella. Just give me a second." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I know you're simply _dying_ to get away from me today, but hang on." He shot me a wink when I laughed, and he held up a finger to me before going back to his aunt. "Tell him I'll head that way."

"He knew you would, so he's expecting you. I'm heading into Hunter's Lake. I need to pick up a few things," she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I'll be back in about an hour."

"Yes, ma'am," he told her.

Mrs. C turned to me, smiling a little. "I hear you and Alice are staying behind for the holiday." When I nodded, she squeezed my shoulder gently. "I'll try not to make a dry turkey, but if I do, lie to me."

Grinning, I nodded, placing a hand on my chest in a vow.

"Good girl." She shot me a wink before leaving the stage and making her way up the aisle.

I picked up my music folder and turned to Edward. My eyes on him seemed to snap him out of whatever he'd been thinking, but he walked to the blackboard to erase it.

"I know it's a holiday week, but since we're both staying here, I thought maybe if you wanted to work sometime next week, we could," he said, looking my way.

"Okay," I agreed, trying not to read his expression as hopeful. "When?"

"Whenever." He shrugged a shoulder, shoving his hands into his front pockets. "Just… If inspiration strikes you, come to my aunt and uncle's living quarters, and I'll help you. I'm staying with them."

Smiling, I nodded and gave him a wave, which he returned, and then I left the stage.

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

The smile didn't leave my face, even after Bella had left the auditorium. It had been hell trying to get her to focus, but I could understand it. It was the last day of school for a week. She – and the rest of the students, for that matter – had been extraordinarily busy the last few weeks. Thanksgiving break was a chance to relax, not worry about tests and grades, and Bella was no different than the rest of them.

I quickly cleaned up the stage of paper wads, slid the chalkboard back behind the curtain after wiping it down, and then decided to take the back passageway to see Carlisle.

He was sitting at his desk in his office when I walked in, papers strewn from one end of it to the other. Behind him were x-rays illuminated on a light box. My eyes raked over them and then the file open on his desk.

"My apologies, son, for taking so long to get to this," he stated, and his thoughts were showing the case that had called him away.

Smiling, I waved off the apology. "I assume that the patient in New York is doing better, then?"

"Much, thank you," he said with a smile. He tapped the top of his desk. "I know this was important…"

Shaking my head at him, I sat across from him in the same chair that Bella had occupied when she'd first visited Carlisle. He'd been called away several times to a hospital in Manhattan. The patient had been critical, and it had taken Carlisle several attempts to bring him back from the edge.

"Bella's…_here_." I pointed to the floor. "She's _safe_ here. The case can wait. Had she gone home for the holiday, I might have followed, but right now, she's perfectly safe under this roof."

"You didn't think so in the beginning," he teased, smiling at me.

Smirking, I folded my arms across my chest. "I was…mistaken."

"Yeah, I bet." He laughed, but the smile fell quickly. "With the police report and now the autopsy results, I've been able to put together a rather vague synopsis. Has Jenks found anything more out on her parents?"

Nodding, I sat forward. "The mother's clean. We knew that much, though I'm not sure that money isn't a factor where Bella is concerned. The stepfather is complicated." I raised my eyebrows up so that he knew that I wasn't kidding. "Jenks called me a few days after he'd sent Jasper the financial report on the Swan residence. Phil Dwyer was a witness in a pretty ugly case that Charlie Swan was presiding over. Apparently, Dwyer was a batting coach back in Arizona, but had transferred to Boston about five years ago. He got wrapped up in some drug ring – performance enhancement drugs. Because there were big names and even bigger salaries at stake, lots of threats were made and money exchanged hands."

"Charlie Swan?"

"No, he stayed clean," I told him firmly with a shake of my head. "In fact, that's the problem. He was _so clean_ that lawyers, managers, and players started to get really nervous. And that includes the suppliers of the steroids, which could explain why Charlie Swan was removed from the picture. Some guys are still serving sentences."

"And Bella?"

I shook my head and shrugged. "From what I can gather, she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was made to look like a robbery, a year after the trial finished. I bet in your file there are some high-value items missing – jewelry, electronics, art, maybe – and it was done to throw everyone off."

"Yes, it does," he agreed. "But no fingerprints were linked to the stepfather. There were a few unknowns, but only partials."

"And that's the thing," I told him, clawing at my hair. "Phil Dwyer comes up clean. He came in and gave his testimony in court, which was mainly concerning the players and anything he'd seen. As far as Jasper can tell, he told the truth – some of it ugly – and went back to work. He resigned from the baseball team several months later, taking a position as an online sports writer. Renee is his first marriage. His financials weren't great, but they weren't dirty, and he has no children out there, as far as Jenks can find. According to public record, Phil and Renee married about a year after Charlie's death. It looks legit, but I'm not so sure."

Carlisle shuffled a few papers around on his desk, pulling out a stack of photographs. "I'm with you. Someone covered their tracks really well." He set them down in front of me. "Look at those and tell me what you see."

I knew what I was about to see would bother me. The mere thought of what Bella had been through – what she'd survived – was enough to make me want to tear someone to shreds. The crime scene photos in my hand were disturbing: a shattered pane of glass in the door; several shots of fingerprinted doorknobs, counters, and walls; and finally, Charlie Swan's bedroom.

"Christ," I hissed, squeezing my eyes closed for a second to calm my temper.

The pictures were from after they'd removed Charlie's body. There were remnants of where the emergency people had worked on Bella. But there was blood _everywhere_. It was obvious that Charlie had been pulled from his bed, that Bella had been caught when she'd run into the room, and that whoever had attacked them had done so with such malice that it was nauseating. More pictures showed the blood spray, which could've only come from Charlie. It was all along his nightstand, across the floor, and up the wall.

Where Bella fell was a different story. She'd obviously been stopped at the foot of the bed, and according to the police report, she'd been found trying to crawl to her father. There was a pool of dark red soaked into the carpet, and to know she'd almost died right there in that spot caused my hands to shake.

"Fuck, Carlisle…I can't," I groaned, tossing the pictures onto his desk.

"If you want to solve this, son, you have to," he stated, his face blank of emotion, but his mind was anything but blank. He set down another stack of pictures. "These were taken at the hospital."

Photos of Charlie were the first few. They were taken of his wounds on the autopsy table. He'd been cut across his throat, much like Bella, though they'd accomplished what they'd intended to when it came to him. There were a few bruises along the knuckles of his hands from where he'd fought back, a black eye, and a few superficial stab wounds to the chest. The latter looked like they'd happened during a struggle. I hoped like hell that Charlie got a few nasty hits in before it was all said and done.

Bella's pictures caused a low, rumbling growl to escape me. She was unconscious, her sweet, long eyelashes resting against too-pale cheeks. She was so much smaller than she was now – a child of barely thirteen – but her long dark curls, her pouting mouth, and her slightly turned-up nose were all the same. Aside from the stitches across her neck, she looked to be sleeping, but the next few pictures showed her bandaged, with IVs and oxygen tubes all over her. Even with all of that, she was a beautiful girl who had grown into the strongest, most gorgeous young woman I'd ever seen.

"Tell me she wasn't… That they didn't…" I shook my head, finally locking gazes with Carlisle with pleading eyes.

"No." He said the word firmly, tapping her medical file. "They just wanted to shut her up. That's all, Edward. I _vow_ to you that the only injury she sustained was the cut to her throat, and obviously that wasn't done with enough strength to kill her."

Swallowing back venom and anger, I nodded. "Thank God."

"I know," he sighed deeply. He sat back in his desk chair, his eyes scanning over everything on his desk. "There were two of them. That much is obvious. You can see blank spots in the blood spatter here…and here," he explained, pointing to the crime photo of the bedroom. "And from Charlie's defensive wounds, it would've taken more than one. He fought like hell."

"Good," I growled low, my lip twitching in hatred.

Carlisle spread the pictures across in front of him, pointing to each one. "They came through the back door here. No alarm sounded, and no witnesses heard or saw anything. They took the stairs straight up to the master bedroom. And something at that point had to have alerted Bella," he surmised, shaking his head slowly. "She came straight across the hall from her room to his."

"Jesus, Carlisle…she watched it all," I whispered.

With a grimace, he said, "Yes, that's what everyone seems to think. It would explain her emotional block, as well."

"Where the hell was her mother at one o'clock in the morning?" I snapped, reaching for the police file.

I flipped through it, ignoring Carlisle's mind. I wanted to read it for myself. Renee's statement was about three or four pages in, and I fell back down into the chair to read it.

"Out with friends from her art class…a movie and drinks after," I sighed, shaking my head. There were verifications of her alibi, as well…even parking stubs. "And the housekeeper, Chelsea?"

"Visiting her son at college," he replied darkly.

I sat back in the chair, gripping my hair. "I don't get it… I just don't."

Carlisle sat forward. "What if this was random or simply revenge unassociated with Dwyer, Edward? The Swan residence was in an affluent neighborhood, he had money, and he'd probably sent a thousand criminals to jail. Anyone could've come for him."

"I know," I agreed with a nod, pulling a few pages closer to me. "I've thought about that. And it's a possibility, but whoever it was… Charlie knew. He knew something was about to happen, or he knew there was a chance, because he changed _everything_ into Bella's name just a few months prior to his death."

Carlisle's expression darkened. "Does…" he started, grimacing a little, but I could see why he hesitated.

"No, she won't discuss it," I answered him sadly. "She's slowly opening up, but the only thing she's ever mentioned was that she feels it's her fault. And that was written in the journal."

"Nothing else?"

"No, and she hasn't answered that back yet. I don't expect her to; it's been a few weeks."

He nodded like he'd assumed as much. "She speaks to you, though? Verbally?"

"Oh, yeah," I said with a grin. "She rarely writes to me, unless it's a bad day. And those are usually after nightmares, but she doesn't tell me that. I see it in Alice's mind. Both look like hell the next day, but Alice hides it from Bella."

"Thick as thieves, those two, these days."

Sighing, I nodded. "Carlisle, her nightmares…they're violent," I whispered, gazing up at him. "I…I shouldn't have, but I took her journal to her room. I wanted her to have it back, without her stepping into the east wing. I didn't know she was still asleep, but she…"

"Terrors," he confirmed, and I nodded. "Yes, some of her doctors have notated them in her file. Did she wake up?"

I shook my head. "I talked to her, though. I felt I had to do _something_."

"Did it help?"

Nodding, I let out a deep breath. I felt guilty for having been in her room in the first place, but my heart had shattered at her cries, her sweaty brow, her clawing at her throat. It had been too much, and I'd promised her that she was safe. My voice seemed to have calmed her, but her hands had reached for me. It had taken everything in me to bolt from the room instead of gathering her up in my arms.

Carlisle's mouth curled up a little in the corners. His mind centered around the talk we'd had at the little lake when I'd first seen Bella. He was convinced I was helping her.

"I hope so," I barely said aloud. "I _want _to."

"You don't see it, do you?" he asked me. His mouth opened and a laugh huffed out of him. When I shook my head in confusion, he grinned. "Edward…in just the few months she's been here, you've become a completely different person. You wouldn't have gone to all this trouble for just anyone. And you sure as hell wouldn't have had the patience to _teach_. You'd been living in the walls like a…"

"Ghost," I snorted, grinning when he laughed. My smile fell quickly, and I asked, "Is it always so…drastic? The changes, I mean?"

"No, son," he said gently, "but you do become what _she_ needs. And you have. It's honestly been amazing to watch. I know she's your mate, but right now, she needed a friend, and you've become someone she can trust."

"Until she finds out what I am…_who_ I am," I countered.

He shook his head. "Don't discredit her, Edward. Let her choose."

I nodded that I'd heard him, but stared at the floor for a moment. "I love her, Carlisle."

He smiled, got up from his desk and squeezed my shoulder. "Good. Then let that guide you. You'll know when it's time to tell her everything, to come clean…even about that damn journal."

I chuckled, burying my face in my hands. "I don't know what I was thinking…"

He ruffled my hair. "You were trying to reach out to her in every way you possibly could, son. It's understandable. She may throw it at your head one day, but…in your defense, you were simply trying."

Smiling, I looked up at him. "Thanks."

He nodded, but took a deep breath and glared at his desk with all the papers on it. "Unfortunately, Bella may be the key to what happened that night. No one really interviewed her. They couldn't because she was restricted from talking for a few weeks after the attack, but then she _refused_ speak after that. Unless she opens up with her own version of the events, then we may never know."

We were quiet for a moment, but he patted my shoulder when I stood up to leave him.

"By the way, Leah's agreed to the diet I've drawn up for her. I'm hoping that she'll let me continue to monitor her heart, but she's ninety-two," he said, grimacing a little, "and stubborn. Anyway, I know Jacob and Jasper will be busy this coming week with picking up the slack around here. I'd like you to keep an eye on her, take her into Hunter's Lake when and if she decides to fill the prescription I gave her."

Chuckling, I nodded. "Yeah, no problem. Since Bella's staying, I'll be around."

He wondered silently if I would've really followed her to Boston.

Raising an eyebrow at him, I asked, "Wouldn't you?"

His face darkened, and he thought of all that she'd survived, but all that she feared, as well.

"Yes, I probably would have."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Some new info, some dead ends, too. Lots of sweet progress with Edward and Bella.**

**There weren't a lot of questions this time around – though, lots of threats against Renee and Phil. LOL One question I did want to answer. Jasper's history. Yes, it was explained back in Chapter 1. However, quickly… He's pretty canon. Changed by Maria, lived in the south, and tended to her newborn army. What's different was that Carlisle and Esme found him down there in the 40s and brought him back. Edward and Jasper consider themselves brothers, simply because they were changed by the same immortal. Another question… Emmett and Rose…they aren't a huge part of the story. They are friends with Bella, human, and on their last year of high school. I can't say much more than that.**

**JenRar, Sarge's Girls, Beffers87, and myself are up for award for the Fanatic Fanfic Awards. The link to vote is on my profile. There are a ton of categories! GO VOTE! :D **

**Okay… I'll see you Thursday for the teaser (which can be found on my Twitter and FB) and then again for the post on Sunday. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N… I want to thank all of you once again. Big hugs to my girls in the Sarge's Girls FB group. You guys have the BEST theories! :D**

**Okay, so the biggest question… Why didn't Bella recognize Edward's smell? ;) I'll let Bella tell you that herself. Hmm? I'll just simply move out of the way and let you get on with it. LOL**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 10**

**November 2001**

**BELLA**

"What'cha havin', honey?" the waitress at the diner in Hunter's Lake asked me. Her smile was genuine toward me as I pointed to what I wanted to eat. "BLT, got it. Fries?"

I nodded vehemently, and she smiled again before walking away from the table. By now, I knew her name to be Meg. I supposed that she'd gotten used to me since I'd been coming into the diner. She'd been a little standoffish at first, but she barely reacted to me anymore.

Looking across the table at Alice, who was happily flipping through a magazine and humming to herself, my brow furrowed. With all the people I'd met since being accepted into Masen, I still couldn't help but think about my mother and stepfather. Aside from Mike and Jessica, my inability to speak didn't bother anyone here. I'd been an oddity at first, but no one even looked my way now. They were most likely still curious, but with a heavy workload and much more appealing topics floating around, my scar was forgotten.

However, at home, I'd felt like an outcast. I'd felt discarded. At Masen, I was completely welcomed and accepted. At home, my own mother could barely stay in the same room with me. Suddenly, I was rather happy that I hadn't gone home for Thanksgiving this week.

Alice's head popped up from the article she was reading. "You okay?"

I nodded, gazing slowly around the diner. We'd been given a few hours in town today, since tomorrow, everything would be closed due to the holiday. I knew Jacob was wandering around outside somewhere. There were only seven of us total staying behind this week. Three were in the diner at the same time we were, but the other two had stayed behind at the castle. I glanced over at Lauren Mallory and Tyler Crowley. They'd become friends – or more than that, it seemed – yet they were hiding it from the girl who was sitting with them. Rachel was a sophomore, with a body that looked like it belonged on the cover of the magazine that Alice was reading. She was nice, but had a reputation of being really flirty.

The bell chimed over the door, and Rachel's eyes widened at whoever had walked in. I didn't have to look – I felt him – but as I followed hergaze, my heart sputtered in my chest. Edward held the door for an old woman, and behind her stood Jacob and Jasper.

"Ow," I hissed when Alice's foot collided with my shin. Glaring at her, I rubbed the outside of my jeans.

Alice waved me away, her eyes on Jasper as my own eyes took in the entire group. The way that Jacob reacted to the old woman, as well as their matching skin tone and eyes, told me that she was either his mother or grandmother. I wasn't sure which. She was so much older, that I'd have said the latter. Edward and Jasper were laughing at something they'd said, but suddenly, Edward's head swung around to meet my gaze. His beautiful smile stayed on his face, and he shot me a wave, which I returned.

However, I didn't miss Jasper's reaction to Alice. His eyes seemed to fill with an ancient sadness, then hardened into something cold, though Edward smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand, almost like he knew that it was obviously some sort of a cover up of his feelings.

Jacob guided the old woman to the table next to ours, grinning our way. "Ah, you haven't met my mother, have you?" he asked us.

Alice and I shook our heads no.

"Alice Brandon and Bella Swan, this is my mother…Leah Black."

Something seemed to light up in her eyes as she looked me over, like she knew me. But the cutest smile curled up on her wrinkled face. Though, she did what everyone did: she glanced down at my neck first.

I waved as Alice said, "Hi!"

"It's nice to meet you," she answered, and with the way she was dressed, the slightly strange accent, not to mention the dark hair and eyes, I saw that she might've been a gypsy.

Alice's eyes glazed over, and a funny little smile spread over her face. "You read futures," she stated knowingly.

Leah's laugh was loud and sweet. "And you're the psychic I've heard about. Come, let's see you." She patted the tabletop as the men with her chuckled, and Alice shot out of the booth to join her.

Her abandoned seat was immediately occupied by Edward, who was smirking at the whole thing. But his gaze turned to me.

"Hello, Bella," he said, and I smiled his way, pulling out the notebook I'd brought with me. His brow furrowed. "Writing today?"

I looked around and then back to him. There were too many people, and I was feeling a little off.

Meg dropped off my sandwich and fries, eyeing Edward like a juicy steak when she asked him if he wanted anything. He politely declined her offer, not bothering to take his eyes from me. I shoved my plate of fries toward him.

"No, thank you, Bella," he said with a chuckle, though it sounded nervous. "I'm um…on a special diet."

Grinning, I shrugged like it was his loss, popped a fry in my mouth, and glanced over at Leah and Alice. Both Jasper and Jacob were watching a tarot card reading with amused grins on their faces as Alice barely looked at the burger Meg had dropped off. Shaking my head, I shoved the notebook Edward's way.

He read the question and answered with my favorite crooked smile. "My uncle is Leah's doctor. He asked me to drive her into town today to pick up some medicine, and even though she _shouldn't_, she wanted something to eat here," he stated loud enough that Leah had heard him, and she rolled her eyes and scoffed like a child.

Smiling, I nodded. I so rarely saw him outside of the castle, so I couldn't help but ask him. He was temptation incarnate today. With the chilly, almost-ready-to-snow weather outside, he was dressed in black jeans and leather jacket, with a form-fitting gray thermal shirt.

And I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Rachel was practically drooling in her plate of spaghetti.

"I figured I'd see you this week, but no…" he hedged, looking over my face. When I shrugged and smiled, his brow furrowed. "Bella, are you having trouble sleeping?" he asked gently, leaning forward.

I pulled the notebook closer, writing one simple word.

_Nightmares._

He looked pained at the answer. "You should see my uncle… He could give you something," he told me, but I wrote again.

_No! No, thank you. I've tried meds to help with nightmares. They help me sleep, but really, they just trap me in the dreams. I can't wake up to make them stop._

"But…" he started to argue, clawing at his hair. "Sweetheart, you look _so tired_."

Smiling at his concern and the term of endearment I loved so much, I quickly wrote, _I'm okay. I'm used to it. Promise, Edward._

He looked so sad after he read it, and he sighed. "You shouldn't have to be used to it," he muttered sourly.

I wrote quickly, and just like Alice, he watched my every word scrawl out on the paper.

_They're better here than at home, Edward. At home, they were almost every night. Here…they've become fewer. I know Alice gets up with me, and that helps. At home, I'm usually alone._

"I don't understand," he sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"Understand what?" I whispered, and I was grateful it was hidden in the loud noise of the diner.

Edward smiled when I spoke, but it fell quickly. "You seem so…I don't know…calm about having to push through these things by yourself, Bella. Why isn't your mother… Never mind, it's none of my business," he mumbled nervously.

Snickering, I pulled the notebook to me.

_I was closer to my dad than my mom, Edward. Not because she didn't care, but because of her personality. She's very…hyper and easily distracted. She's always taking some new class or into some new cosmetic sales __thing, or__ she'll go through a baking phase or whatever. She's been that way since I was born._

_When I couldn't talk, she was worried and she took me everywhere to try to "fix" me, but when she didn't get the expected results, she simply assumed that I needed time. Time turned into years, and like always, she just learned to live with the way I'd changed. My stepfather goes along with what she says. He's just happy I'm not a loud, obnoxious, argumentative teenager._

"That sounds so cold," he sighed, shaking his head. His hands twitched a little on the tabletop, but he balled them up into fists.

_I know it sounds that way, but I have Chelsea. Sometimes, I wish it was different, but I know my mother loves me. And like I said before…it's better here._

I pushed the notebook to him and smiled when he looked at me. A bunch of emotions flickered across his handsome face – sadness, worry, and what looked like a little anger. I didn't want to see that he cared so much, but it was obvious he did. I just didn't want to hope that he cared the same way about me that I did about him. The tension at the table was thick, and I realized Edward and I had leaned closer and closer to each other, but he sat back quickly. However, we both glanced over at the other table when Alice's voice rose.

"Wait, wait! But how do you_ know_?" she asked Leah, her eyes locked on a strange stack of cards laid out a certain way on the table. "I mean, I don't need…these…"

Giggling, I went back to my sandwich and fries with a shake of my head.

"You don't believe in it?" Edward asked, wearing the funniest of expressions.

Shrugging, I wrote back to him.

_I believe in Alice. I'm not sure about tarot cards or tea leaves. My mother had her palms read once, and none of it was true._

Edward snickered at my answer. "Perhaps she just went to the wrong person. Leah here is the real thing. She's rarely wrong. And it runs in her family…mother, grandmother…"

My eyebrows shot up, and I grinned at him, asking, _She's given you a reading?_

"Oh yeah," he said with a laugh. "Plenty of them. She finds me…fascinating."

Snorting, I understood that, but probably for completely different reasons.

_And just what did she say about you?_

He grinned, looking away from the table for a moment. He shook his head like he wasn't going to answer, so I added to my question.

_Let me guess__… All__ the good stuff: marriage, kids, success, long life…_

"No," he stated firmly, his brow furrowing as he stared at the page. "Nothing like that, Bella."

_Bad stuff?_ I wrote, looking over at him, though his attention seemed to be on Lauren, Tyler, and Rachel, who were getting up to leave the diner.

His brow wrinkled again, especially when Rachel's eyes barely left him when she walked out the door. He shook his head, giving her a brief annoyed glance, but he turned back to me.

"More like," he sighed, grimacing a little, "confusing stuff. Stuff that didn't make sense until it came true." He leaned forward. "A long time ago, I had a reading…" he started in a whisper that was almost drowned out by the loud laughter from Jacob and Alice at the table next to us. Jasper, however, got up and left the diner. "I was told some things I didn't want to believe. Some of it was good, some of it was strange, and some of it was…"

"Bad?" I whispered, my heart breaking at his handsome face filling with something dark.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "The bad seemed to overshadow the possibility of the good. My parents' deaths had been seen, but so had my relationship with my aunt and uncle – better parents, really – so bad, then good."

"And the strange?" I whispered, but Edward glanced over at Jacob as he kissed his mother's cheek and then stood up.

"Time to go, ladies," he said to Alice and me.

I nodded, leaving my money on the table for my food. I stood up, dragging my bag with me, and tucked the notebook back inside. Edward stood up with me, but before I could walk by him, he grabbed my wrist gently, his fingers slipping down to mine.

"The strange part was…she saw a _swan_, Bella," he whispered in my ear. "A beautiful, _silent_ swan, and Leah saw music – hands on a piano." He squeezed my fingers gently, dragging his thumb across my knuckles. "It didn't make sense then, but it does…now."

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh, or kiss him. Either one would've been inappropriate at the moment. I wasn't sure what to make of his serious, yet tentative face, either. If it was as vague as he was saying it had been when presented to him, then I could understand why it hadn't made sense at the time. My mother's reading had been just as ambiguous; the woman had seen my mother alone, but she'd married Phil almost the next month.

As Alice and Leah still chatted, I couldn't help but look up at him and ask, "So…good or bad?"

He laughed, shaking his head and shooting me a wink. "Definitely good."

Nodding, I smiled. "Except when I have the attention span of a fly."

He chuckled. "There is that, Bella."

I rolled my eyes, but gave him a wave before being spun around by Alice.

"That was awesome," she gushed, wearing a big smile. "You should have her read you sometime."

Leah laughed, saying, "Anytime. Come see me. I'd be interested in giving you a reading, Bella."

Edward, however, looked mad. "They aren't allowed that far away from the school, Leah."

"Oh, pooh, Edward. Then you or Jacob could bring them," she argued, her eyes narrowing on him.

"We'll see, Ma," Jacob hedged, though his hand shot out and smacked Edward's shoulder.

Alice's arm linked through mine, dragging me out of the diner, and I looked over at her expectantly.

She laughed. "The cards fell in the coolest way. She saw the love card, some sort of secret thing…and death." When my eyebrows shot up at the latter one, she said, "Well, it makes sense. My grandmother has been sick, Bella, and I'd already seen her death coming." She leaned into my ear. "I'd love to see her again. She has a crystal ball and everything."

Chuckling, I shook my head, but we made our way back to the van. I wasn't sure I cared about a reading. However, my mind and heart couldn't help but reel at the thought that Leah saw me coming into Edward's life…and that he thought it was a good thing.

**~oOo~**

**December 2001**

Thanksgiving had been a nice break. The actual holiday itself turned out to be fun. Mrs. C had cooked the turkey – which wasn't dry – and Jasper had pulled a couple of tables together in the dining hall in order for the small group of us to sit together. Dr. Cullen had even given a nice blessing.

However, Edward had barely eaten that day, seemingly nervous, and while everyone else had decided to watch a movie in the library, he and I had gone to the auditorium to work on my song. Having all three Cullens and Jasper in the same room had made me see their similarities. They were all gorgeous, all had various shades of honey eyes, and they all seemed to move so very gracefully. I thought Alice was probably right, that Jasper and Edward could possibly be related, though I never asked.

As Christmas break approached, I was beginning to feel the workload weighing heavily on me. I was ready for a break from homework, tests, and projects. I was ready to go home, sleep late in my own bed, and not have to worry about midterms.

It was the last Friday before Christmas break, and history class seemed to be dragging on and on. I wasn't leaving Hunter's Lake until Tuesday morning. This time, the castle would clear out until a few days after the new year, when we were all due back. Edward had said he was staying on with his aunt and uncle.

The thought of Edward made me sad. Despite how ready I was to go home, I wasn't ready to be away from him for almost three weeks. And today would be our last session until after the holidays. He'd become the one person I actually spoke to on a regular basis. He made me comfortable and happy. And lately, he'd started looking at me in a way that made me blush, made the butterflies in my stomach battle around in their armor.

"Please turn in your reports on the Roman Empire, and you guys can take off for the day," I heard from the front of the classroom.

I picked up my backpack, rummaging around for the folder I needed, and my fingers raked across the purple journal. I'd taken to carrying it around with me for safe-keeping. I'd reread MG's last response over and over, until I almost had it memorized. The fear behind his words always drew me in, but his vague answers always made me stop and think, though my response to him sat undelivered. I just hadn't been brave enough to take it to the east wing. If my guess was correct, then MG was something old and dark and sad.

If I listened to Alice's original theory, then I'd have to think he was some sort of immortal being, a vampire hidden in the shadows, which sort of scared me a little, especially considering the state of the east wing. I'd seen some of the movies, read _Dracula_, and their power and thirst for blood were a little unnerving – that's if I allowed my imagination to run away. But there was a part of me that wondered if colorful words weren't just a cover for something else. And it was that last notion that caused my curiosity about the east wing to skyrocket. I wanted to explore up there. Badly.

Pulling out my history assignment, I handed it forward, but my eyes fell to the journal before I took it out. Since class was dismissed early, I had more than enough time to drop it off before heading down to the auditorium to meet Edward.

Before I could change my mind, I shouldered my backpack and left the classroom. I dodged my classmates and wound through the corridors and up to the third floor. I waited until two freshmen turned the long corridor's corner before yanking back the tapestry and pushing through the hidden door.

The east wing was darker than usual, though it lit up when lightning flickered across the gray sky outside. I snorted at myself when I jumped at the rumbling thunder, but I set the journal in its place. Instead of retreating through the hidden doorway, I gave the room a long, slow gaze.

It reminded me of _Beauty and the Beast_, where the beast's side of his castle was torn up and shredded. He'd been miserable and angry, and he'd taken it out on his surroundings, only to continue to live in the destruction. I hitched my backpack up higher onto my shoulder, but wandered farther into the room past the broken piano.

The place was chilly and still smelled musty and old and closed-up, but I had to smile at the scent that I loved so much, which seemed to be much more intense than it usually was. Cold rain spattered against the windows, and the wind blew fierce outside. The shadows at the top of the stairs and in the adjoining empty room shifted and swayed.

I stepped closer to the fireplace, with the mantle in ruins and the bricks crumbling, but looked deeper than the garbage on top. Beneath the splintered wood and broken concrete, there were what looked to be shattered picture frames – old ones. No photographs were left in them when I knelt down to shift stuff around, but just under the frame was what looked to be sheet music. It was brittle and burned about halfway across the page, but I pulled out what I could. Some of the notes were faded as I studied them, and I heard the tones in my head as I read it.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head and bringing the page up to the limited light coming in through the window. At the bottom far corner of the page, a date was written in familiar, yet beautiful penmanship.

_April 12, 1901_

I could tell the date most likely matched the age of the paper, but the notes…they were so familiar. If what I heard in my mind was really how it played on the piano, then something wasn't right.

Setting my backpack down and pulling out my music folder, I carefully set the fragile sheet music inside and slid it back into my bag. I needed to get the hell out of there before I freaked myself out any further, and I wanted to beat Edward to the auditorium, because if my theory was correct, then he had some explaining to do.

I gave the east wing one more glance before quietly cracking open the hidden door to the main hallway. I hurried down the stairs, around the main entryway, and burst into the auditorium. I rushed up the stage stairs, setting my backpack on the piano bench and pulling out my folder.

I didn't even bother setting the sheet up, but sat down next to it, my fingers finding the notes instantly. My hands shook as I played what notes could be seen from the paper lying flat, and I froze when the auditorium doors slammed shut. I shifted papers around, hiding the old pages beneath my folder, but when I looked up at Edward, his eyes were bright honey, sweet and warm, his smile nervous and wavering.

"Hello, Bella," he said, pointing to the piano as he walked to the blackboard and tugged it closer to the piano. "I didn't think you were paying much attention to my song that day, but you're close."

Waving his way, I couldn't stop my heart from pounding at the sight of him. Despite the strange coincidence with the music, he was still Edward. My Edward. Nothing about the clench of his jaw scared me, nothing about his stiff posture caused me to be concerned, because everything about him made me feel safe, secure, and cared for.

"Bella, you okay?" he asked, kneeling next to me. It was then that I caught a whiff of him. It was sandalwood and laundry soap, and had it not been so concentrated in the east wing I'd just left, I would've never put the two together, or maybe I just never wanted to. "Sweetheart, you're white as a sheet…"

Shaking my head, I got up from the piano and took a deep breath.

"No, no, no," I chanted mainly to myself, but was caught up in Edward's grasp. "You can't be. You're not him…"

"Bella, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" he asked, looking hurt when I tried to pull away from him. When I finally locked gazes with him, his face looked…resigned. He groaned, his eyes closing as he simply said, "Ask, sweetheart. I won't lie to you. I've never lied to you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I shook my head. "Wh-When…When did you write your song?"

Edward's knees hit the floor with a dull thud, and he spoke softly. "A very long time ago."

I snorted, causing his eyes to snap open. It was just the type of response MG would've given. I glared at him, swiping at my tears while everything that Edward and MG had ever said started to swirl together. They started to mesh and match up, along with the little strange things I'd noticed about Edward that I'd simply waved off because of the way I felt about him. It was that last thought that caused a sob to escape me.

He reached for me, but I backed away, shaking my head. My back met the chalkboard, and I picked up a piece of chalk and held it out.

"Write my name," I whispered, my hand shaking.

Edward stood up from the stage, taking the chalk from me. "Bella, please…"

My hands balled up into fists, and for the first time in years, I yelled. "Write it!"

My panic started to surface, but I fought it, shaking my head. I hadn't raised my voice above a whisper in so long that my throat protested what I'd just done.

Another thud made me glance up, and Edward's forehead was pressed to the chalkboard, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Before I do this, Bella, you need to understand something," he whispered, looking to me, and his voice wavered like he, too, was crying. "Nothing I said, did, or…_wrote_ was done maliciously, nor were they lies. Everything I told you was the truth – as much as I _could _tell you. I didn't set out to hurt you, but I can see that I did so anyway. I…I'm so sorry." His voice was a velvet plea, and he didn't take his eyes from me when his hand scrawled my name across the chalkboard.

I wasn't prepared for the sight of it. It was beautiful and flowing and exactly the same as MG's. More tears fell as I started to back away from him, but he moved quickly, catching me before I stepped off the front of the stage backwards.

"Let me go," I sobbed, looking away from him. "Leave me alone, Edward."

"I can't," he hiccupped back. "Bella, I don't know how!" he begged through gritted teeth. "I tried. I swear I did, but…everything about you pulls me in."

His echo of my own feelings for him wasn't a comfort. Instead, they wounded me because I felt exposed and deceived and confused.

"Sweetheart, look at me," he begged, and when I did, I wanted to collapse at the hurt and panic and fear that matched my own.

"Don't call me that. I trusted you," I said weakly, shaking my head in denial.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I read your journal, wrote back to you…told you that you were safe _before_ I met you, Bella. I promise you that. Think back. You know it's true."

"Did you get a good laugh?" I hissed, pushing him away and grabbing up my things.

"Nothing about this is funny," he growled, gripping his hair, "but by the time I'd gotten to know you, it was too late; you had figured out about the east wing."

Glaring his way, I shook my head. "Would you have told me?"

"Yes, everything, I just didn't know how to approach it," he groaned, sitting on the edge of the piano bench and fisting his hair in both hands. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know…just not here."

He looked up at me, and I shook my head. I could feel everything that I'd let down around him start to build back up. Silently, I turned to leave the stage.

"No, no, no," he begged, jumping down from the stage to cut off my path to the door. "Bella…everything I told you was the truth. Everything. I've waited _so long_ for you. You have no idea. I just wasn't sure how to handle it when you really showed up."

I snorted, shaking my head.

"Really, Bella? You scoff at the idea of fortune telling, yet you'll toy with the idea that your 'ghost' in the east wing might possibly be a blood-drinking demon?" he asked, and venom infused his words, his tone, causing me to step back again. "Go ahead and leave. If you want answers to all the questions you asked your ghost, you know where to find him."

I stepped around him, and just before I reached the auditorium doors, he was right behind me.

"No matter what happens, I can't change the way I feel about you. It's unwavering and permanent, and I was losing the battle between what was right, which was leaving you alone, and what I wanted, which was to tell you how I felt, what I was, the consequences be damned. I would do _anything _for you, Bella. That includes letting you go. But I wish you'd let me explain before you get on the train home."

I wavered, my hands shaking as I reached for the door. Everything about him felt _so right_ as he stood behind me. We just fit together, and he sounded so broken, but I needed to think, and I couldn't do that with him so close, with the knowledge of what he was so fresh. I pushed through the doors, letting them slam closed behind me. I could barely see my way to my dorm room through the tears. Thankfully, Alice wasn't there, so I was able to crawl into bed without explaining the sobs I couldn't stop.

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

My forehead fell to the auditorium door when it slammed closed. I breathed deep, once again wishing I could cry. To watch the cold glare in her eyes at me, see the wall build right back up – the wall she'd let down only for me – just about killed me.

She knew. She knew everything. And she hated me for it.

My hand balled up into a fist, and as much as I would've liked to have destroyed the room I was in, I couldn't. Not only would Esme kill me, but I simply didn't have it in me.

Slowly, I made my way back to the stage, and I glared at my handwriting. Her name, and she'd recognized it instantly. I erased it from the blackboard, pushing it backstage and turning toward the piano. Gone were Bella's things, but left behind was something I hadn't seen in decades.

"Shit," I hissed, shaking my head at how my language had simply evolved into something I barely recognized anymore, but I was feeling everything and nothing all at once, so it was bubbling out of my mouth without thought.

Bella had recognized the notes, but then saw the date in MG's handwriting. That was how she'd put it all together. I sat on the edge of the bench, glaring at the partially burned piece of paper. I remembered when I'd done it. I remembered with a clarity that I took for granted. It was the day I'd woken up from my change and destroyed the east wing. The piano had taken the brunt of my temper, but I'd ripped every piece of music I'd owned or written and tossed them into the fire. My eyes had landed on the photographs on the mantle, and with all the strength I had, I'd brought my hand down through it, essentially knocking everything into the flames. Carlisle had managed to salvage my pictures. My music hadn't been so lucky.

Keeping the brittle paper in my hand, I stood up and made my way to the back passageway, toward the east wing. I knew the purple journal was waiting for me on top of the piano. Bella had almost run flat into me coming in through the hidden door behind the tapestry. I'd had to hide quickly. Once she'd left, I'd been in such a hurry to follow her that I hadn't touched the notebook.

My heart hurt when I caught sight of it, but I left it where it was. Taking the steps at a human pace, I felt weary and broken. I didn't know what I'd do if she simply left on Tuesday without coming to see me. I _needed_ to see her, to tell her everything and explain why I'd messed up.

Jasper was in my living quarters when I got there, his face panicked and eyes wide. "Edward, what the hell happened? It was all I could do not to burst into the auditorium with what I felt coming from there."

"Bella knows," I barely said aloud, falling to the edge of my sofa. "She put two and two together, and she hates me for it."

"She doesn't hate you," he stated firmly. He smiled when my eyes shot up to his. "Not at all. She's pissed…hurt…a little embarrassed, but she doesn't hate you. In fact, anytime you two are together, it's far, far from hate."

"You didn't see her."

"You didn't _feel_ what I felt when I passed by," he argued, sitting down across from me. "Brother, she may be mad, but that's not hate I'm feeling."

Nodding, I sighed, sinking my fingers into my hair. I trusted Jasper, but he hadn't seen the look in Bella's eyes, and he hadn't seen her shut down.

"Please don't doubt me," he said with a snort.

"I don't, but right now…I just…" My voice trailed off. I couldn't even put into words what I was feeling, but he could sense it all.

Deep down, I hoped she'd stay away. She deserved so much more than what I could give her, even more what I _couldn't _give her. But my heart wanted her to track me down, yell, scream, throw things, just to get the answers she wanted. At this point, she could write to me for the rest of her life, as long as she didn't shut me out. And it was that side of me that was winning. I was already missing her, and she hadn't even left the castle yet.

"You could go see Leah," he suggested.

I shook my head no. "I'm not leaving right here until she's out of the castle."

"And then what?"

"I'll follow her. I don't trust anyone with her safety," I stated with a growl. "I don't know what happened in that house four years ago, but if I have to watch over her like a gargoyle, I will."

"You're too pretty to be a gargoyle, Edward," he said with a laugh, getting up and starting to pace. "The entire female population in this school practically swoons when you walk down the hallway."

Scowling, I glared at him. "I don't care. Wanna know what they _think_?"

His laughter was loud, but he shook his head. "No thank you." His smile fell quickly. "What if she doesn't come back, brother?"

Shrugging, I let out a deep breath. "I don't know. I'll figure it out, I guess," I whispered.

Jasper stopped pacing and folded his arms across his chest. "Was it worth it?"

I studied his face, but even more, I listened to the real question in his mind. Was _she_ worth it? Even if, at the end of the day, she no longer spoke to me?

I thought of every moment I'd spent with her, getting to know her, watching as she'd tried so hard to just keep going. I remembered that every time she'd speak aloud, I couldn't help but smile, and it seemed to be an endless pattern. She loved my smile, so she spoke just to see it. I remembered laughing and teasing, pushing her to do more, and finally, the happy face when she'd get her music just right. For a few brief months, she'd given me everything. She'd made me feel normal and human and fragile. She'd changed me into something I hardly recognized anymore. She'd given me back my true calling that went as far back as my human days.

I looked at Jasper. "Yes. She was worth every second. I'd do it again. Maybe differently, but I don't know." I looked down at my hands. "I just want the chance to tell her that."

Jasper nodded, his thoughts turning to Alice, but he didn't say anything. He was a man in pain, but I couldn't give him anything at the moment, other than my own ache. He left me alone, walking through the east wing slowly.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there. The rain turned to sleet and then eventually stopped, making the weather cold, but the sun didn't really ever come out the next day. Sunday, however, dawned bright and sunny, lighting up my living quarters. The morning caused shadows to dance across my floor as I paced off some nervous energy.

I was just about to give into going to see Leah – I wanted some sort of advantage, a heads-up – but I practically tripped over my own two feet when I heard the hidden door to the piano room slowly open.

There wasn't anything that could've kept me from her. I smelled her instantly – flowers, fruit, and salty tears. It was the latter that brought me to the crumbled stairway. I sat down silently about halfway down, just watching her warily. Bella was in street clothes, and as much as she was dangerous in her uniform, jeans and a form-fitting sweater were sin incarnate.

Her eyes raked over the room, landing on the journal I hadn't touched. She picked it up, thumbing through it, only to frown at no answer. Her eyes shot up from the book in her hands, immediately meeting my gaze, like she could feel my presence.

"I didn't read it, love," I told her, shaking my head at the term of endearment, but might as well call a spade a spade.

She walked to me just as silent as ever – both mind and voice. The anger had dissipated from her eyes, but the hurt was just as prevalent. She hugged the notebook to her chest almost in a protective manner as she came to a stop a few steps down from me.

"Why?" she whispered, frowning.

"I didn't feel I deserved to read it," I replied, shrugging a shoulder.

She sniffed, glancing around, only to land back at me. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," I answered instantly, smirking when she snorted and rolled her eyes. Before she could leave, I added, "I was born June 20, 1879. I was bound to this world for eternity in the summer of 1901."

I looked her straight in the eye when I answered. I wanted no more secrets between us. If she was here, right in front of me, I'd give her anything she asked for. Her eyes widened at that.

"And your real name?" she asked.

Smiling, I placed a hand on my chest. "Edward Anthony _Masen_ Cullen."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "So this is your house."

"Yes."

She swallowed nervously with a nod, but the fact that she was actually talking to me, speaking out loud, gave me a small glimmer of hope.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"Which part?" I countered. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, Bella, but nothing I've said thus far is a lie."

She shook her head, but her heart rate skyrocketed. "About…" she sighed, meeting my gaze. "Did you mean what you said about how you feel about me?"

My laugh came out breathy and incredulous. "God, Bella…you have no idea. If I tell you the heart of it all, you may run from this wing and never come back. But…yes."

"But you _will _tell me?" she verified.

Nodding, I whispered, "Yes, sweetheart. All of it."

Her heartbeat changed when I called her that. I knew she liked it, but she never said a word about it. I held out my hand for hers, and she eyed it warily for a second.

"Let me show you," I begged her. "There's nothing about me that I want secret or hidden from you anymore."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she nodded, slipping her hand into mine.

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Everyone take a deep breath and let it out… Before you riot (my pre-readers totally did…I still carry the scars), I will let you know that I'll be posting again on Thursday. Chapter 11 ended up so long that I needed to split it, so you get it on Thursday, then 12 on Sunday. :) I'd planned on a double post with this particular section of the fic anyway. ;)**

**In case you didn't catch it, Bella didn't recognize the smell because she never thought to put the two together. To her, they were two separate things, and until it was blatantly in her face and she was trying to mesh it all together, did it finally click.**

**Okay, don't forget to vote for the Fanatic Fanfic awards. The link is on my profile. :) Some amazing stories, fics, writers, banner makers, and betas are being recognized. Please show some love.**

**I'll see you guys again on Thursday. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N… Not as many rioters as I was expecting, but lots of squeals. ;) And many of you wishing your week away. LOL**

**Just to remind you… MG stands for Masen Ghost. **

**I'm well aware that you're dying for this chapter, so I let you get on with it. See me at the bottom. **

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 11**

**December 2001**

**BELLA**

"Bella, get up," Alice commanded, but I pulled my covers tighter over my head, making her laugh. "No, not gonna work, sweet cheeks."

The covers were yanked away, and I grimaced at the smell of food in our dorm room. Glaring at her didn't scare her away, either; she merely grinned and set the plate of food on my nightstand.

"You didn't eat a thing all damn day yesterday, and your nightmares kept me up most of the night. You're gonna sit up, eat this, and shower. _Then_ you're gonna go to the east wing."

I shook my head at her, practically growling in protest.

"You are," she argued, tugging me up into a sitting position. "You are, because I've already seen it. And when you come out, you're a billion times happier. So do what I tell you, and no one gets fucking hurt."

Giving her a side glance, I pouted, but did as she asked. I wasn't quite sure she didn't mean it. She was small, but feisty, so it was kind of possible she'd pick me up and shove me into the shower without a care. However, she was right. I'd spent all of Friday night and all day Saturday in bed. It had been cold and slushy outside, so it wasn't like it made a difference. A quick glance to the window told me that Sunday had dawned bright and clear.

Without complaint, I ate the toast and eggs she'd brought me.I was hungry, but I didn't taste much. My heart was a little tattered, slightly frayed around the edges.

Edward had feelings for me, but Edward was something…_different_. And Edward _was _MG.

The sound of his broken voice when he begged me to let him explain was the only thing that had me considering going to the east wing. If he was what he'd hinted at being, then I could _almost_ understand why he'd hidden it. Alice didn't always tell people that she was psychic, simply because of the way people reacted, and she was something somewhat believable...in a strange/daytime talk show kind of way. But if Edward was indeed a vampire, then it would go without saying that he'd have to hide it, keep it from everyone. Like he'd said in the journal, human beings had a tendency to react harshly to things they didn't understand.

All that aside, I focused on just Edward – the guy that made my palms sweaty, my stomach do flip-flops, and the one person I'd found that made me completely and utterly comfortable for the first time since I'd woken up in the hospital and couldn't speak. He'd wiped away more tears, given me more reasons to smile on the toughest of days, and been so supportive and patient with my piano lessons that I couldn't be angry at him. I was hurt that he'd lied, though, and that was reason enough to go to the east wing. I wanted answers.

Alice huffed and nodded once. "Thatta girl."

Frowning over at her, I continued to pick at my breakfast. I wasn't so sure I shared her enthusiasm. I tried to stay mad, but really, curiosity was overriding everything. I reached over and tapped her temple lightly.

Smirking, she folded her arms across her chest. "I just told you. You go. You come back happier. That's all I see." Her face softened a little. "And that's important, Bella. Your nightmares are fucking scary. When you're happy, they aren't as bad, but the last thirty-six hours has been…rough on you." She waited when I opened my mouth, but sighed when I snapped it closed again. "I wish I could tell you more, but it's blurry."

My brow wrinkled, but I nodded. Most of the time, her visions that included me and then became blurry had to do with Edward. I was beginning to see a pattern, but it wasn't something I thought needed sharing. Alice had more than one time said that Jasper and the Cullens weren't all that clear in her sight. What they were – what they might possibly be – wasn't my secret to share, though Alice had her own theories. And she accepted it without batting an eye.

It was that last thought that had me throwing away my garbage and getting out of bed. Alice smiled, but said nothing as I walked into our bathroom and shut the door. As I showered, every reply from MG rattled around in my head at the same time that all my conversations with Edward did. But the one thing that I remembered most was his fear of me finding out.

_I know you're so very smart, and it's possible you'll put it all together soon enough, which scares me more than anything because I don't know what I'll do if you shun me. If you do, I hope that you can forgive me one day. It wasn't my intention to mislead you or lie or even scare you. You'd been through so much that my first instinct was to let you be, but I can't. I'm forever a different man, a better man thanks to you. My God, have you ever changed me! __In a very short time, you've become the best part of me, Bella, and each time I see you...each time we speak, it only makes me more sure that you were worth every second of the wait._

Something about that told me that he'd wanted me to know, but at the same time, he didn't, because I'd reacted exactly as he'd expected. Again, with the waiting.

As I pulled on my jeans and sweater, I remembered the conversation back at the diner with Edward on Thanksgiving break.

"_A long time ago, I had a reading. I was told some things I didn't want to believe…"_

"_The strange part was…she saw a _swan_, Bella. A beautiful, _silent_ swan, and Leah saw music – hands on a piano. It didn't make sense then, but it does…now…"_

"_So…good or bad?" I asked him._

"_Definitely good."_

I hadn't seen it then, but hindsight gave me a touch of clarity, if only because I knew so much more now. Edward's face, despite how good he was at masking things, had been telling the truth. But just how long ago he'd been given his reading was the question, along with a million more.

I stepped out of the bathroom completely dressed to find Alice waiting for me. I wanted to know what she saw, what made me so happy at the end of her visions, but as quickly as the thought came, so did the guilt. I'd more than scoffed at the idea that Edward had waited for me, that some sort of fortune had been given to him, but I couldn't accept the fact that he might be something out of a fiction novel.

Clearing all of that away and focusing on just Edward – the Edward I knew, that I'd fallen in love with almost from the first time he'd spoken to me – I started to shake. I'd worried that the one person that I could open up to, actually speak out loud to, would one day just up and leave, and in spite of his deception, it was _that thought_ that still scared me. It didn't matter _what_ he was, but who he was to me. And I couldn't get on the train to Boston for Christmas break without at least hearing what he had to say.

Alice didn't say a word, but she walked to me and hugged me before giggling and shoving me out into the dorm corridor.

Sundays were always quiet in the halls. Most students slept in, some worked quietly in the library on homework due on Monday. As all of us were due to leave Tuesday morning, there were some that were already packing.

I took my time winding through the castle, glancing around me as I reached the familiar tapestry. When the hall was empty, I ducked behind the heavy fabric, pushing the door open. I gazed around the ruined room with new eyes, still seeing the destruction, but wondering why it had happened and how it had stayed that way for so long. My heart pounded at the sight of the purple journal in its usual spot. I picked it up, frowning when there was no reply.

I knew he was there. I could feel him, but I knew if I actually looked at him, there would be no going back. I'd have to stay, have to hear him out. And the pull to him was _so strong_ – the same thing he'd said about me in the auditorium – which made me wonder if it was as strong for him as it was for me, because I was shaking as I fought it.

My eyes found him instantly sitting in the shadows of the broken steps. He was beautiful…and sad. He was watching me like I'd bolt from the room, but when he spoke, his voice still drew me in.

"I didn't read it, love." He shook his head, but his face was an open book; worry, anxiety, and something I couldn't quite put a name to flickered over it. The fact that he was still wearing the same clothes from Friday was not lost on me.

Walking to him and up a few of the steps, I wondered why he hadn't read it. Though thinking back on my reply inside the book I was currently hugging against my chest, maybe it was a good thing. The words were moot now.

"Why?" I asked, trying to keep my feelings in check when the sound of my voice gave me the brief smile from him that I loved so much.

"I didn't feel I deserved to read it."

I wasn't sure what to make of that answer, but as I gazed around at our surroundings, I asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

Something about that instant reply pissed me off, and I started to turn around, but he spoke quickly and softly.

"I was born June 20, 1879. I was bound to this world for eternity in the summer of 1901."

He was a hundred and twenty-two, though he sat in front of me, looking like he could be a model for a magazine, be on a cover of a romance novel, or fit in as a college student in any college…anywhere.

A million questions cropped up onto the tip of my tongue, but I needed to know just _who_ he was. Was he the tutor I'd fallen in love with? Was he the "ghost" I felt I could tell anything to? Or was he both?

"And your real name?"

"Edward Anthony _Masen_ Cullen." His usual flair of placing a hand on his chest now held more meaning. It came from a time long forgotten. It came from a time when this castle was a home, not a school.

"So this is your house."

"Yes."

His honesty was apparent. It sat right there in front of me, but even more was the emotion that caused his voice to sound raspy, like a plea. And as I looked at him, I couldn't deny how I felt about him. It would have torn me to shreds to turn on him and leave the east wing. His posture was stiff, anxious, like he was prepared to defend himself from me, if needed. He also looked like I felt: emotionally thin, as if one word would shatter him into a billion pieces.

"Did you mean what you said?" I asked without thinking, shaking my head at his ability to make me at ease, despite how hurt I felt.

"Which part?" he whispered, his shoulders sagging a little. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, Bella, but nothing I've said thus far is a lie."

"About… Did you mean what you said about how you feel about me?" I was embarrassed to ask, but I needed to know. If I was merely something to keep his attention for the time being, I couldn't take it. If he truly meant that he couldn't stay away from me, that he'd do anything for me, that what he felt was permanent, I wanted to know. I couldn't bear to think that I felt these things alone.

He laughed, but it was a little sad, and he gripped his hair nervously. "God, Bella…you have no idea. If I tell you the heart of it all, you may run from this wing and never come back. But…yes."

That answer was once again cryptic. "But you _will _tell me?"

"Yes, sweetheart. All of it."

My heart hurt at the term of endearment, and no matter how badly I wished the battling, armored butterflies would keep still in my stomach, they didn't. They warred deep within, making it hard to breathe, to see past the tears that were welling up against my will.

"Let me show you. There's nothing about me that I want secret or hidden from you anymore."

I stared at his open hand, an offering of peace, and my tears fell down my cheeks. He'd hurt me by lying, but I could see he was open, honest, and just as on edge as I was. His hands were gorgeous, with long, slender fingers, smooth skin, and almost perfectly shaped nails. They'd wiped away tears, played the piano with such talent and grace, and now I knew they could produce beautiful handwriting.

I slipped my hand into his, but didn't move from my spot on the step. He froze, gazing down at me. He hadn't stood up yet, which made it easier for him to tilt my face up. He wiped away the tears so gently that I barely felt his touch.

"Bella, I'm so sorry for misleading you. I…" He sighed, frowning a little. "If you'll allow me to explain everything, I promise you can beat me with that book in your hand."

My mouth twitched a little.

"Not that it would hurt, but still…" he joked, smirking, but it fell just as quickly as it came. "Please, Bella. Hear me out." He squeezed my hand gently. "You've told me so much about you. It's time you knew everything about me."

Nodding, my eyes stayed on his form as he stood up. "Where?"

He grinned down at me as he led me up the stairs. "My real living quarters." He gestured to the destruction around us. "This is just…to scare people away."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. "It doesn't work, Edward."

"Obviously," he muttered wryly, giving me a wink.

We got to the top of the stairs where the sun was beaming in from outside. Edward stopped us, his head falling a little, but he turned to me.

"Bella, I need you to say the word…what you think I am, because…I'm not normal. And you're about to see that as soon as I step across this landing," he said, tilting his head at me. "Say the word."

I glanced at him, then the sunbeam, wondering if he was about to burst into flames.

"No, I'm not gonna shrivel up," he said with a chuckle.

"You can read my mind?"

"I _can _read minds – all but yours – but the worry was written all over your beautiful face," he countered with a slight laugh to his voice. "Love, please say the word."

Swallowing, I took a deep breath. "Vampire?"

He flinched, but nodded. "Our skin is different."

He stretched out his arm, and my mouth fell open at the sight in front of me. I couldn't help but reach out and trace a finger over what looked like diamonds sparkling. It was beautiful, glimmering in the sun and casting rainbows of light against the steps.

"So pretty," I whispered, gaping up at him, but I could see he didn't think so.

"It's the skin of a killer, Bella," he explained. "Once we…become what we are, our skin hardens and stays cool to the touch. Nothing can cut us, scratch us, save another one of us."

"Us…" I dragged the word out. "Your family."

He nodded. "C'mon, sweetheart. It's a long story."

We turned the corner of the landing, the stairs I'd been drawn to since the beginning, and continued up another flight. We came to the end, to a dark wooden door. Edward reached out for the doorknob, but I froze again.

"I'll never hurt you, love," he whispered, bending down a little so that his eyes met mine. "Physically," he clarified. "I'm sorry that I deceived you, but I can't harm you. It would end me. You need to know that now."

My brow furrowed, but I nodded, gesturing for him to lead on.

My mouth gaped when the door swung open. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting. With all the destruction around us, the room I walked into was completely the opposite. It was stunning and beautiful, filled with dark woods and warm rugs. It was open like a loft apartment in the city, though it had been divided up into different sections. There were endless shelves along the wall, filled with books, music, and what looked like a really expensive stereo and TV. In the window was a rather large antique desk, and on top was a pretty high-tech computer, printer, and monitor. To my left was a sitting area, with leather couches and chairs that sat in front of a large fireplace.

It was the most beautiful room I'd ever seen, but there seemed to be something missing.

I spun around, only to look up at Edward. "No bed?"

"I don't sleep," he said with a chuckle.

My eyebrows shot up. "Ever?"

"No, not at all." He held his hand out for me with a sweet smile, and I took it. "Let me start a fire. It gets a little cool up here."

He led me to the soft leather sofa, and I took a seat in the corner, watching as he started a fire. Once it was blazing, warm and orange, he sat down in the opposite corner of the couch, but he didn't sit back. He rested his elbows on his knees, sinking his fingers into his hair.

He seemed to steel himself and finally turned to me. "The only way I know how to tell you everything is to start from the beginning." When I nodded, he did, too. "I was born in this house. I grew up in this very room. And I became what I am here, too." He winced a little, but got up and sat on the coffee table in front of me. "Bella, the song I played for you, the story about my parents. That was all true. It just happened the summer of 1901. Do you remember that story?"

I nodded, but answered him anyway. "Yes."

"Well, that night…the night my parents died…was the night that changed everything," he started, looking down at his hands. "My father was a drunk and rather abusive toward my mother. I'd been home for the summer from Harvard. I had one more year before I received my teaching degree, but my mother had wanted to see me. She knew I probably wouldn't come back after I graduated." He met my gaze. "I intercepted a fight between them, accidentally knocking my father out…though he was damn drunk to start with. My mother sent me from this house into Hunter's Lake to allow my father to sleep it off, so I left. I decided to go to this little pub – which is where the diner is now, mind you," he said with a smirk, "and I met a gypsy woman. I had been drinking, but she told me she'd read my future. My friend, James, had already left with a girl, and I followed Giselle up to her place."

I frowned, wondering where he was going with this, but nodded for him to go on.

"Bella, _she_ was the one who saw you coming," he sighed, shaking his head a little. "She saw several things that night – my death, death at home, and then you…a hundred years later."

My mouth fell open. "How?"

He huffed a humorless laugh. "I don't know, love. And I didn't really believe her at first. It didn't make sense, you see. I mean, she saw my death, but then she saw…my soul mate coming a hundred years later. I was confused and disbelieving, to say the least."

My heart thudded heavily in my chest at Edward calling me his soul mate, but I didn't say anything.

"She tried everything to warn me," he continued, reaching out to play with my charm bracelet, but he seemed to stop himself and pull back. "I left her place, still a little drunk, and started to walk home. The woman my friend James had left with wasn't human, and she cornered me in the middle of the woods. Alone."

"She…made you?" I asked, not really knowing how to put it.

He smiled so sweetly that it was heartbreaking and then tapped my chin with his fingers. "I'm sure Maria's intention wasn't to create me, but devour me."

"Oh."

He chuckled. "Right. Oh. Had it not been for Carlisle coming to look for me, because he'd been summoned to my home due to what had happened to my parents, then I wouldn't be here today. He stopped Maria and killed her, but I was way past saving. Carlisle gave me a choice, but I begged him not to let me die."

"Carlisle… Dr. Cullen?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he sighed, sitting up a little straighter. "As much as I hated what I'd become, I have to be extremely grateful for him. He has been a friend, a father, really, for so long. And he showed me how to live a better way."

"What do you mean?"

He sat forward, taking my hand. "Bella, you haven't asked the _one_ question you should be asking… What do I eat?" he said, and even though his voice was rough, it was still gentle and sounded fearful of my reaction.

My stomach plummeted, but I waited.

"Your heart sounds like a hummingbird's wings," he noted softly, looking at me worriedly. "Normally, our kind would drink from humans. Carlisle taught me that there was another way: animals.

"He likes to think he's funny," Edward went on with a wry, crooked smile. "He calls us vegetarians. Even though it's not as…enticing, it is ideal for maintaining our thirst without causing harm. It also gives us our eye color." He pointed to his honey-gold eyes, shrugging a shoulder. "Those that drink from humans have red eyes."

"So… Jasper and Dr. and Mrs. Cullen?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "They are my family. For a while, it was just Carlisle and me maintaining this house and a few other places. Esme came along a few years later. They are my parents for all intents and purposes. Jasper, however, was changed by the same woman who changed me. He's my brother in more ways than I can explain."

Edward stood up, his face a little pained. "When I woke up as this, Bella, I was so angry. And with everything that happened, plus my parents, I flew into a fit of rage. That's what you see in the east wing."

"Why not…change it?"

He smiled a little. "It keeps me…grounded. Reminds me of where I came from, I think. Plus, after Esme started this school, it kept the students away from my rooms."

I couldn't help but grin and shake my head.

"Well, it _used_ to work, love," he said with a laugh, but he came and sat back down on the coffee table in front of me. "The story isn't finished, but you haven't run away, so…" He tilted his head at me. "You can understand why I have to hide what I am, what we are, right? The rules I wrote about…they're real. There are immortals that govern us, not that they pay much attention to Carlisle due to our diet, but humans aren't supposed to know about us. It's the one rule they enforce. For the most part, they leave us alone. I've never met them, but Carlisle has. And then…if humans found out, they'd probably panic."

I toyed with my charm bracelet, nodding. "No, I get it." When I looked back up at him, he was waiting patiently for me, as always. "So…you said…the truth is usually overshadowed by fiction…"

"Ah, yes," he sighed, smiling. "While _Dracula_ is about a vampire, the only thing that's true is his diet." He snickered a little. "The holy water, crosses, garlic, coffins thing…all myths. And obviously the sun thing…" He pointed toward the window.

"No fangs."

He grinned, nodding a little. "No, but our teeth are very sharp, and we carry venom." When I looked at him in question, he said, "It's what immobilizes our prey and causes the change." He leaned down. "Still not running?"

"No," I told him, shaking my head and trying to figure out a way to tell him how I felt. "I've tried. I can't. I don't know how," I said, repeating the words he'd said to me in the auditorium.

His intake of breath made me glance up at him. His expression was hopeful, but a little heartbroken at the same time.

"There's more, Bella," he said softly. "You okay to hear it?"

I nodded, watching his hands as they once again reached out to play with my charm bracelet.

"Once I woke up to this life, I told Carlisle about Giselle and her predictions. He went to look for her, but she was gone. After a few years and my thirst was under control, because we wake up like…I don't know…feral beasts," he sighed, shaking his head, "Carlisle and I started to look for her. We found her about ten years later, just outside of Manhattan." He sat up a little. "Bella, she told me the same damn thing. Only this time, I could see her mind," he said, tapping his temple.

"Her predictions showed a girl," he went on, cupping my chin. "I couldn't see the whole picture, but she kept seeing a swan, wings wrapping around me, and a scar." His thumb traced along my throat softly. "I could never see where it was."

He got up, walked to an end table, and opened a drawer. He reached in and pulled out a large sketch book, only to hand it to me.

When I cracked it open, he whispered, "You can see the dates. Carlisle said for me to draw what I'd seen in Giselle's mind."

I flipped pages, my mouth falling open. I saw deep brown eyes and a scar. My scar, but it didn't show where. There were a few stunning drawings of Edward – or simply a male figure – with large white wings wrapped protectively around him. But I noted the dates. They started somewhere around 1911 and would shoot forward several years, sometimes a whole decade, but the images were the same.

"Carlisle and I brought Giselle here with us, along with her daughter, Sue, and granddaughter…_Leah_."

I gasped, my eyes tearing away from the beautiful sketches and locked onto an even more beautiful face. "No."

"Yes," he snorted. "Every time they'd tell me a prediction, I'd draw…well, you." He scooted closer to me. "Bella, I wasn't kidding. I've waited a very long time for you."

"So that's what you meant," I whispered, glancing down at the pictures he'd drawn.

"Yes."

Questions still swirled around in my head as I flipped through the pages, catching glimpses of my scar, which was almost exact, but not on any particular place. There were brown eyes and swans and wings. Some tended to get dark, morose as time went on, but as I neared the end of the book, the dates became current. Puzzle pieces were put together to form me. Edward had drawn me at the piano, my hands on the keys, and my smile.

Smirking up at him, I held up the pictures, giggling when he shrugged.

"It was nice to be able to put it all together," he answered simply.

I closed the book and handed it back to him, standing up from the sofa. I gazed around his room, at pictures and books, finally turning to face him.

"Will you…get into trouble…that I know?"

"As long as you aren't gonna tell the whole school, Bella…" He frowned.

"No! I promise," I vowed. "I haven't even let Alice see the last few journal entries." I pointed to the purple notebook I'd left on the couch cushion.

He grinned, shaking his head. "Relax, sweetheart. No, they don't pay much attention to us, like I said." He glanced over at the journal, picking it up. "I'm sorry about this, Bella. I really am. When you've been alive this long, you tend to forget the good things. The idea of you becoming a reality was…terrifying for me," he said, gazing up at me. "I wanted Giselle's prediction to be true, but then…I didn't. I was scared. When we figured out that _beautiful swan_ meant Bella Swan, I kind of refused to deal with the reality of it. Esme told me your story, how you rarely spoke, and I just didn't think I'd be good for you. It seemed so unfair to drag you into all of this." He waved a hand around the room.

"Why?" I asked, trying not to cry, but the tears stung my eyes.

"C'mere," he whispered, waving me to him. He pulled me between his legs. "Bella, you'd already been through so much, and I just thought I'd make it worse, but…I saw you…" He smiled up at me. "I heard you play the first time in this castle, and I was…a changed man.

"I tried to stay away from you, and while I was warring within myself, you dropped your journal in the piano room. I'm sorry I read it, but then…I'm not. You were such a silent mystery, I just needed more. And your last entry, you sounded so scared. I just wanted you to know how strong you were, that no one would touch you here."

"I'm not strong," I whispered, shaking my head.

Edward smiled at me, but he let that argument go. "When I heard you play, I ran to Esme, told her I wanted to tutor you. I couldn't fight it anymore. I needed to know you. The journal was a bad idea, but it allowed me to leak a little of the truth of myself to you. I shouldn't have, I know, but I couldn't help it." He pressed a hand to his chest. "Bella, you _must_ understand that when our kind change, it's fierce and swift and irrevocable." He held up the purple journal. "I'm sorry."

"Don't read that!" I blurted out softly, smiling when he laughed. "It's…dumb, and now it's…"

"Irrelevant?"

"Yeah."

He looked down at it, a rather sad expression on his face, but he handed it to me. "Burn it," he stated, jerking his chin toward the fireplace. "We'll start a new one. That is, if you want to."

That question seemed bigger than just about writing to each other. I reached for the journal, not taking my eyes from his face. His honey eyes darkened a little as he waited for me.

Swallowing nervously, I asked, "Is that what _you_ want?"

He smiled a little, shaking his head, but gently squeezed my shoulders, dragging his hands down my arms. He took the hand with my bracelet and toyed with the charms.

"Bella, I…" His brow furrowed and his eyes closed so that his long lashes rested against his pale skin. "I'm incapable of staying away from you. I'm also incapable of making an unbiased decision when it comes to you." His eyes finally opened, locking with mine. "On the other hand, I know that this…this _role_ I'm playing means I'm too old for you. To all of those around us, I'm the twenty-two-year-old piano tutor to a seventeen-year-old high school student."

"You're worried what people think?" I asked, smirking when his grin lit up his face.

"Not about me, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle, "but it would cause a stir…publicly."

I could no longer resist reaching out to brush his hair from his forehead, and it was _so soft_. He seemed to relish the touch, but kept his eyes on me.

"I won't always be seventeen," I told him, smirking when he grinned. "You, however, will always be twenty-two. And maybe you won't always be my piano tutor."

"Oh, you wound me, love," he said with a chuckle. "I love teaching you."

"So…next year, you tutor me…in private," I said with a raised eyebrow.

Edward's eyes blackened to pitch, and it was sexy in a dark way, causing me to lean in, but I stopped myself, looking down at the purple notebook. I frowned at it, realizing just what it meant. I'd originally written in a journal to my dad and then to some sort of ghost that Edward had become. But as I stood there, with Edward's sweet face waiting for me to find the words, I knew I'd changed, too. He wasn't the only one.

Locking gazes with him, I said, "I've talked this entire time."

Grinning, he cupped my face. "You have." His smile fell quickly when tears filled my eyes. "Why does that upset you?"

Shaking my head, I swiped haphazardly at my tears, but he reached up and did a gentler, better job. "I've been… I've worried that…" When he frowned, I sighed deeply, frustrated at myself. "What if… Edward, what if you're the only one I can do this with?!" I hissed, a sob erupting from me. "What if I'm always like this? A freak? I'm not normal, and you'll…"

"I'll what?" he asked, though his voice held a bit of a growl to it. "Leave you? Get tired of it?" He shook his head, frowning up at me. "Won't happen, Bella. I've told you before that I'm not going anywhere." He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, but he held my face so that I couldn't look away from him. "I'll wait as long as you need. I love that it's me you can talk to, and maybe that's selfish. I don't care. You don't know how much you've healed _me_, love. I can barely explain it, but maybe Carlisle's right that I'm helping you, too, somehow. Is that so bad?" he asked me in a whisper.

I shook my head, sniffling a little. "I love that it's you, too, but…" I shook my head again. "Edward, I don't _want_ to be this way, but I don't know how to change it."

I started to back away from him, but he held onto me, keeping me close. "Bella, look at me," he stated, almost as a command, but there was a slight begging to his tone. When I finally looked at his face, he said, "Sweetheart, you won't always be this way. You're getting better all the time. But I swear to you, I'm here for whatever you throw my way. That's what you do when you love someone."

Another sob broke from me, and I finally wrapped my arms around his neck. God, I loved him, too, and I really hoped he meant it.

"I'm not as strong as everyone seems to think, Edward," I sniffled into his neck, reveling at how just the scent of him could calm me.

He pulled back, holding my face in his hands like I was made of spun glass. "Tell me why you think that. You keep saying it, and you seem to think what happened to your dad was your fault. I can promise you that it wasn't."

Shaking my head, I pushed and pushed at him until he released me, though it looked like it pained him to do it.

"No! It was!" I yelled, which caused my knees to buckle in panic.

Edward reacted immediately, scooping me up and depositing me gently onto the sofa as he knelt in front of me. "Breathe, love. Don't let the fear win. I _know_ you're scared, but I promise you… I'll never let anything happen to you."

He forced me to look at him as my breathing calmed down. Just his mere presence was helping, but knowing that he loved me seemed to give me some sort of courage.

"You promise?" I asked him, sounding like a scared child, but he honestly made me feel safer than I'd felt even before my dad died.

"Oh, yeah," he said with a slight smile, but his forehead fell to mine. "I _vow_ to you, Bella. No one will ever touch you again. One day, you'll believe me."

I sniffled and smiled, but shook my head. "I need to tell you what happened that night. I've never told anyone."

He closed his eyes, but opened them again. "I'm here when you're ready, Bella, but there's no rush."

I pulled back, tracing the scar across my throat, knowing the feel of every inch of it. "I want to tell you now…before I lose my courage."

Edward studied my face, but stood up from the floor and took a seat next to me on the sofa. His face seemed blank, but I could see that he was preparing himself a little. Leaning in, he dropped a kiss to my temple, much like he had on the piano bench not too long ago.

"You have my undivided attention, my love," he said, looking me in the eye. "The floor is yours."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Originally, this was supposed to be all one chapter – his side/her side – but it simply became too long, and really, it needed a break in between. It gave me a chance to catch **_**my**_** breath, but I knew I'd need to post them kinda close together, so that's why the extra update today. :)**

**Questions… Okay, I **_**know**_** you guys are concerned with Jasper and Alice. I **_**promise**_** you that we'll get to them, that questions will be answered, but their story is much longer and a little more twisted. Plus, Jasper's **_**very**_** stubborn here. ;) Like I've said before, this story is kind of a long haul. I see this fic in three large portions/sections. We've just about reached the ending of the first section. **

**Don't forget to check out JenRar's fic and the Fanatic FanFic Awards. All the links can be found on my profile.**

**Okay, see you guys again on Sunday, and we'll get back to the regular posting schedule. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N… Much love to my ladies (and gent) in Sarge's Girls for all the love they show this fic. MWAH… And a GINORMOUS thank you for all of you who review...you've shoved this fic way beyond 2000 reviews! :O OMG...thank you again! :)**

**Okay, I know you're in a hurry. This picks back up right where the other one left off, but this is all Edward's POV. ;) However, I do give you a TISSUE WARNING... **

**See me at the bottom…**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 12**

**December 2001**

**EDWARD**

"I want to tell you now…before I lose my courage." Bella's voice – always a whisper – sounded stronger than normal.

Not for the first time did I wish I could read her mind, but her face was a rock. Her little chin jutted out in defiance, though her dark eyes were wide with fear as her fingers traced the scar across her beautiful skin. I wanted to know anything she'd tell me, but I worried as to what this would do to her. Carlisle had said that when Bella finally pushed past the wall she'd built around her, she'd shatter, and as much as that prospect frightened me, I knew I'd do anything she asked of me, even if it meant I had to help her rip this emotional wound open. If it allowed her to heal, then I couldn't argue.

I stood up from in front of her, unable to stop myself from leaning in and kissing her temple. "You have my undivided attention, my love. The floor is yours," I told her.

Bella turned, tucking her feet beneath her legs and leaning a shoulder against the back of my sofa. I mirrored her position, knowing this may be the hardest thing I'd ever hear, but as I looked at the girl in front of me, I realized I'd walk through fire for her.

Her focus was on her charm bracelet when she started to speak, and even though she used her usual almost-whisper, I could hear everything – her voice, her heart pounding, her fidgeting, her heavy breathing. It was all I could do not to wrap her up and tell her she didn't have to do this.

"M-My dad…he was a judge," she started, glancing up at me. "But before that, he was a lawyer. He'd told me once that he'd almost become a cop, but the idea had scared Grandma Swan too badly, so he went to law school instead." She smiled a little at that, leaning her head against the sofa. "He was my best friend. We did everything together." She gazed back down to her bracelet. "It was Grandma Swan who taught me piano, and that made him happy because he said he didn't have a musical note in his body."

Smiling, I could imagine that Charlie Swan had been a damn good guy, and I'd have been willing to bet he'd worshiped the ground Bella walked on. And I couldn't blame him one bit, simply because I did, too. I silently vowed to him wherever he was that I'd keep her safe as long as we lived – however we chose to live.

"He taught me everything else, though," she said, looking to me. "Fishing, reading, cooking…guns."

The last one hung in the air for a moment, and I waited for her to continue, not realizing that my breathing had stopped.

"He…He had these plans, these rules in place for emergencies, you know? There were procedures to follow for almost everything – if I got lost somewhere, if Mom's car broke down, if my friends wanted to do something and it wasn't safe, and if someone broke in." Tears filled her eyes, but she ignored them. "He'd tell Mom and me that nothing could happen to his girls. Nothing. That even if he wasn't with us, we had to stay safe."

Oh, yes, I liked Charlie Swan. A lot.

"I messed up," she barely said aloud, but tears ran unchecked down her beautiful face. "I messed up that night, Edward. I should've done things differently, but I didn't. I should've…"

Her breathing became ragged and harsh, and I gave in, pulling her to me and setting her sideways across my lap.

"Take a minute, Bella," I whispered in her ear. "We can stop…"

"No," she argued, shaking her head. "Please, just…I _need_ to do this…"

"Okay," I soothed her, cupping her face and wiping her tears away, "but I need you to breathe, love. I've got you, no matter what."

She nodded fervently, trying her damnedest to take a few deep breaths.

"Would it be easier to start at the beginning?" I asked her.

"Maybe," she said, trailing off a little. "Something must've happened a few months before…that night," she murmured, looking over at me. "My dad was…more…"

"Vigilant?" I offered, trying anything just to help her through this.

"Yeah," she sighed, nodding a little. "He just seemed so angry. Not at me. Never. But with work and even my mom, he seemed so short-tempered."

My brow wrinkled at that, wondering what the hell had Charlie found out that sent him into a panic, almost over the edge. I knew that he'd changed everything into Bella's name, though I wasn't sure she knew that until later.

"He kept reminding me of where his gun was, which was in the library in his desk drawer, and what all the codes were to the alarm. He told me not to walk to school, that he'd take me and pick me up…or that Chelsea would do it, but I wasn't to walk." She turned to look into the fire, seeming to lose herself for a moment.

"My mom went out that night," she said in the softest whisper yet, still lost in the fire. "Dad and I watched a movie in the living room before he went upstairs." She looked at me pained, a sob erupting. "I didn't set the alarm, Edward. My mom…she forgot the codes all the time, and if she came in late, it woke the whole house. I thought I was doing everyone a favor!"

"Shh," I breathed against her temple. "It's okay, love."

"But…but…" She gripped my shirt, her face completely terrified. "It let them in!"

I thought she'd panic again when her voice raised, but it seemed to open some sort of floodgate. She started rambling. All I could do was hold her close, her body shaking like it would fall into a million pieces.

"I was…I was asleep, and I heard the glass break downstairs, but I thought I was dreaming," she burst out. "I…I…sat up, listening. I thought it was my imagination! I swear, I didn't know! And then I heard the sixth step…it creaks every time you step on it…and I froze. I waited. At first, I thought it was my mom, but she'd usually peek in on me. When the steps went by my door, I didn't move. It wasn't until I heard my dad cry out and a heavy thud that I ran from my room to my parents' room."

Bella's hands balled up into fists in her lap, her breathing was ragged and shallow, and when she closed her eyes, more tears than I could possibly capture fell down her cheeks.

"I saw them…two of them," she breathed, swallowing thickly. "They were fighting with my dad."

Reaching over, I rubbed one of her fists gently until it unlocked from itself. She threaded her fingers with mine in probably the most tenacious grip she could manage.

"They were in black, with ski masks on…like some sort of cliché TV show," she said, and a slight maniacal laugh escaped her, but she reined it in. "My dad saw me, told me to run, scream, to get out of there, but I wasn't fast enough. I should've hit the alarm, I should've run downstairs for the gun…but I didn't. All I could do was scream for him. And before I could move, one of the guys grabbed me at the same time…the same time…they cut his throat." Her head spun to face me. "They laughed at me…when they did it," she whispered, clawing at her scar. "I could _hear_ the knife, but they laughed, saying, 'so much for screaming.'"

A deep, low, feral growl erupted from me, but thankfully, Bella didn't hear it. My determination to find these men tripled. They would pay for what they'd done. I didn't care what revenge needed to be played on Charlie Swan; there was no need to take it out on a thirteen-year-old girl. None. And I would find them, and they would pay in the same way that Charlie and Bella had paid. Even more so, simply because Charlie and Bella had done no wrong. I'd tried to find something amiss, but Charlie Swan came up completely clean of wrongdoing. These men had lived free for far too long, and their days were numbered.

"When they left us…" She swallowed nervously, squeezing my hand with more strength than I'd expected. "I…I…I tried to crawl to my dad. I couldn't make any noise, but I heard them downstairs, breaking stuff…stealing, I think. They were still laughing.

"But my dad, he was so still. I didn't understand. If I was moving, then why not him?" she asked rhetorically. "I tried to get to the phone, but I don't…I don't think I did. Everything kinda went dark…" Her voice trailed off softly.

Tucking her hair behind her ear so that I could see her face, I waited patiently. Her heartbeat was still fluttering too fast for my liking, but she seemed to be under control.

"I…I woke up in the hospital, trying to scream, but it was too late by then." She grimaced, looking down. "I, um…tried to pull my stitches out, so they restrained me, drugged me…at least until I healed." She gestured to her scar, then covered it with her hand.

Shaking my head, I gently tugged her hand away. Leaning in, I kissed that twisted, raised line across her throat with a reverence. I didn't give a damn what it looked like, I didn't care about anything other than _that scar_ represented the fact that she was here, now, with me. Whether she believed it or not – and I vowed to make her see it – she was the strongest creature I'd ever met.

"Don't," she begged, turning her head away from me. "It's ugly."

"It's beautiful," I countered, meeting her disbelieving gaze. "You're here because of it."

"I overheard them, you know," she whispered, looking down at our linked fingers. "I faked being asleep, but the doctors and my mom talked in my hospital room. It didn't matter what I did… No one would've heard me. Our neighbors weren't home, so no screaming would've worked, and Chelsea was away, visiting her son. It would've been useless. They said they didn't understand why I didn't do something… Even my mom accused—"

"Oh, love…they weren't there, they didn't experience what you did. Everyone has some sort of solution when they're outside the scenario," I soothed her, but it didn't work, though that most likely explained her fear of talking. Maybe it wasn't even a fear, but rather, Bella just didn't see the point of saying anything; it hadn't helped her that night, so why should it help her after?

More tears came and then a sob.

"Shh, Bella," I sighed against her temple.

"They all but said it…" she barely breathed aloud, but her gaze snapped up from her lap, her eyes eerily glazed and far away. "It's _my fault_ he died! It should've been me… Why him and not me?! _I'm_ the one that messed up!" Her free hand poked at her chest, but she completely unraveled in my lap.

I didn't have an answer for her, but she didn't seem to require one. All that came from her now were hot, salty tears and heavy sobs. I pulled her completely to me, hoping like hell my cool skin didn't bother her, but her face burrowed into my neck as she seemed to release everything poisonous inside of her. She clung to me furiously, and I could feel her tears soaking my shirt, feel the panic, the fear, the sadness simply welling up and out of her.

I started talking, even if she couldn't hear me through her pain. She needed to know it wasn't her fault.

"Bella, you did nothing wrong," I whispered, kissing the top of her head. "Not a thing. You reacted how anyone would've reacted. Sweetheart, I bet if you really thought about it, you probably thought it was your mom coming home." I kissed her head again. "Nothing about that night was your fault. You did the best you could, and I'm sure your dad would be proud of you, no matter what."

"You don't know that!" she mumbled against my neck.

Smiling a little, I ran my hand through her hair, glad she was arguing with me instead of curling in on herself. "If he was as adamant with your safety as you tell me, then I _know_ he'd be proud that you came through, Bella. That's just a fact."

"I miss him so much," she cried.

"I know, love, and I'm so very sorry," I whispered, squeezing my eyes closed against the sting of tears I couldn't shed. My heart was broken for her. "But I never, ever want you to think it should've been you that night, Bella, because if that were the case, then I would've never had the most amazing opportunity to meet you, and that…hurts."

Her head popped up from my shoulder, and despite puffy, red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Reaching up, I wiped away tears, smoothed back her hair, and cupped her face. "I mean it. I don't know why anything happened to either of us, Bella. How we've managed to get here, I'll never understand or know who to thank, but…somehow, we did."

"I love you, Edward," she said, just slightly louder than a whisper, but not quite her normal tone.

That was the best thing I'd heard in my entire lifetime. "I love you, too, Bella."

She leaned in, but I guided her head down, kissing her forehead. I knew what she wanted, but it wasn't the right time. I wanted it, too, more than anything, but we had to talk before that happened, and again, it wasn't the right time. I didn't want our first kiss to be right after such an emotional upheaval, where she would forever remember it being tied to telling me the story of her father's murder.

I saw her disappointment, but I wasn't to be swayed at the moment. "You okay?"

She nodded, laying her head back on my shoulder. "Yeah, I just feel…empty."

"Understandable, love," I said, wrapping my arms around her, but her heartbeat slowed down, her breathing evened out, and her hands started to twitch against my neck. Grinning at the fact that she felt that comfortable around me to fall asleep, I slipped farther down into the cushion.

She fell into a deep, dead-weight sleep. I knew that I couldn't possibly be comfortable for her. My skin was too hard, too cool, so when she shivered once, I carefully maneuvered her to the sofa, covered her with a blanket, and stoked the fire.

I didn't want to leave her, but I needed to see Carlisle, and I knew she'd need something to drink when she awoke.

"Edward…" she murmured in her sleep, and I couldn't help but kneel down next to her, which made her fingers grip my shirt in a fierce little fist.

Prying her fingers off with a brief smile at how strong she was, I whispered, "Shh. You're safe now, love. Sleep in peace."

I dropped a kiss to her head, but wrote a quick note to her that I'd be right back, just in case she woke up while I was gone. I took the hidden passageway at a run. I wasn't sure what Carlisle and Esme had planned for the day, or even if they were home, but I practically fell into their living room.

"Son?" Esme said, looking up from a stack of papers spread out in front of her on the dining room table.

"Bella knows," I muttered, heading straight for her kitchen.

"Everything?" Carlisle asked, coming in from their bedroom.

"Yes," I answered, pulling out whatever I could find, until I felt Esme's hand on mine. "What? I'm sorry I'm raiding…"

She chuckled lightly. "Stop. Let me help you."

Smirking when she pushed and shoved at me to get out of the way, I leaned against the kitchen counter, clawing at my hair. I turned to Carlisle, whose thoughts were a mix of pride and curiosity.

"Did she…"

"She figured out everything," I said, telling him quickly how it had happened, what had been discussed, and Bella's reaction. I even told them that she'd spoken to me the entire time, that she'd fallen apart in my arms, and all that she'd explained concerning the night her father died. I finally ended with the fact that she'd cried herself to sleep and was currently on my sofa.

"Oh, damn." Esme sighed, bracing her hands on either side of a sandwich she was putting together for my girl. "No wonder she doesn't speak… Poor thing was traumatized."

"Yeah." I frowned, looking down at my hands, but then back to Carlisle. "I _will_ find them, the men that did this. I'm not kidding, and I don't give a damn how long it takes."

His answering smile was slightly evil, one I hadn't seen him wear in decades, and that had been in response to a kid that had picked on Jacob when he was young. He'd picked and picked at Jake about his gypsy heritage until he'd snapped, finally punching the boy in the face. The little bully's mother had called, but Carlisle had seen to it all, basically telling the woman that her son needed to be locked in a cage, as he behaved like an animal.

Only this time, his smile was worse, deeper, darker…just more. Carlisle wasn't a vengeful man. He didn't use his strength or immortality for anything other than to help people in need. It was why he'd become a doctor. But Carlisle _hated_ the evil that humans could throw at each other and usually would play peacemaker. Not this time. His mind centered on who and what Bella was – to me, specifically. He didn't know how she and I would work everything out, and he didn't care – it was our business – but he'd already fallen in love with her. He considered her family, even though she didn't know it. He'd kill for her just as much as he would the rest of us, and with what had happened to her, he wanted something done.

"What's your plan, son?" he asked aloud, even though he knew I'd been following his line of thinking.

Shaking my head, I sighed, "I don't know." I locked gazes with him. "But I want to read the minds of her mother and stepfather. I want in her house…"

"Here," Esme said softly, handing me a wrapped plate and a bag of different cold drinks.

"Thanks," I whispered, kissing her cheek.

"Mmhm," she hummed. "Now…are you still planning on following Bella to Boston over the break?"

"I'd considered it, but I don't know how she'll respond," I replied, shrugging a shoulder.

"Just be honest, son," Carlisle said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She knows what you are now. Just explain how you can't be too far away for too long."

I grimaced a little. "I'm not sure the mating thing won't be the last straw."

Esme giggled like a girl. "She'll be fine. She'll feel it, too, sweetheart. Trust me."

"'Kay," I murmured, holding up the food. "I need…"

"Go," she encouraged, turning me around and pushing me back toward the passageway door. "And tell her that she's welcome to come to us any time if she needs anything."

I reached for the doorknob, but stopped, turning to face them. "She…she said she loved me."

Carlisle grinned, but Esme caught my trepidation, walking to me.

She cupped my face. "You'll figure it out. It wasn't so long ago that she'd have been the right age to court. You know this. Society has changed, and that's okay. Ask her, son. She's a bright girl – obviously, since she loves you."

Snorting at her giving nature, I shook my head. "Okay…"

She smacked at my arm, saying, "Stop it. I mean it. Just talk to her. Let her know what your worries are… She won't always be seventeen."

I chuckled. "Yeah, that's what she said."

Esme smiled. "See?"

Nodding, I kissed her cheek again. "Yes, ma'am."

I ran back to the east wing, stepping quietly into the room just in case she was still sleeping, which she was. I set the sandwich and drinks down, kneeling next to her. Her eyes were still a little puffy and her eyelashes were still wet, which made me think she'd cried in her sleep. At that thought, I lightly brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, tracing a finger down her cheek. My eyes landed on the scar across her neck.

Deep brown eyes fluttered open, and I smiled, though it felt forced, simply because of everything that had been let out into the room. Raw, ugly honesty had erupted out of us both, and now that she'd calmed down, I wondered where we stood. I braced myself for anything.

She reached up, trailing a finger underneath my eye. "You have the longest eyelashes. They're so pretty; I'm jealous."

Grinning, I took her hand, kissing her palm. "Thank you." When she sat up a little, I said, "I brought you something to eat, sweetheart. I figured the dining hall was out."

She grimaced, nodding a little and taking the plate I handed her. "You made this?"

"Esme did. She booted me out of her kitchen," I told her, grinning when she giggled softly.

"You left?"

"Not for long, I promise. I just…I knew you'd be thirsty."

"Thanks," she sighed, opening a bottle of water. She downed about half of it before setting it down. "I dreamed…and you were in it. You spoke to me. Have you done that before?"

"Yes," I whispered honestly. "When I dropped the journal off in your room, you were dreaming. It was so…"

She winced, waving me on.

"I spoke to you, hoping it helped."

Her nod was slight. "My dreams are…memories," she started softly, looking up from her sandwich. "That night…the night you brought the journal…the whole dream changed. You…saved me."

My eyebrows shot up, but she nodded.

"Yeah, instead of it ending with the men laughing, you…you did something to them," she finished. "It was the best dream yet. I knew it was you. _Y__ou_," she said, pointing my way. "Not MG."

Frowning, I said, "Believe me, Bella…if I knew who they were, I would do something about it."

"I wish," she sighed, shaking her head.

I didn't answer that, though I filed it away for later. To know that she was that frightened of those men made my decision to find them that much stronger.

She ate her sandwich in silence as I sat on the floor beside her, and she finished off the last of her water, opening the soda. The latter made me feel better, because I knew she needed the sugar after the panic she'd been in. She set the empty paper plate down on the coffee table, smiling my way.

"Thank Mrs. C for me, please," she said.

"I will, but she passed along a message that you're welcome to come to them if you need," I told her, turning a little her way and setting my elbow on the cushion of the sofa.

"You told them?"

"I did." I nodded, curious as to what was going through her mind.

"Um…do you have…" Her cheeks reddened a little, and I snickered.

"Over there, love." I said, pointing to the bathroom at the other end of the room.

I stayed where I was, leaning back against the couch and gazing into the fire, but she got up quickly. I tuned out what she was doing in there, losing myself in all that had transpired in that room. My thoughts turned to the fact that in less than thirty-six hours, she'd be on a train back to Boston.

When Bella returned, she didn't sit down again, but instead, picked up the purple journal, flipping through the pages silently. She'd washed her face, pulled her hair up into a long, sweet ponytail, and looked a little better than she had earlier.

Without saying a word, she walked to the fireplace and tossed it on top of the flames.

"Bella, you're sure?" I asked, gazing up at her from the floor and opening my arms for her.

"I'm sure about _you_," she stated firmly, kneeling between my legs and hugging me. "You sounded so scared for me to know the truth."

"I was," I sighed into her hair. "I was sure you'd run from me."

She giggled softly, sitting back on her heels between my legs. "Yeah, 'cause you're just this hideous monster, Edward."

Grinning, I shook my head. "That's not what I meant, sweetheart."

"I know," she replied, reaching up to push my hair off my forehead. I relished the touch as she seemed to be hunting for the words to say, finally whispering, "I can't explain it, but you make me feel…safe, comfortable. Alice says I only talk to people I trust, and I guess that's true. But you…you're different. I feel like...me again with you."

"God, love, that's all I want. You know that, right? For you to simply be…you."

Nodding, she toyed with the stubborn curl at my forehead. "And I meant what I wrote to you… I've seen monsters, Edward. You're not one."

"I am, Bella, just not with you," I argued, grimacing a little. "I'm not… There are so many things about me that will cause you pain, trouble, sacrifice. I never want you to regret anything. C'mere," I told her, spinning her around so that her back was to my chest and she was sitting between my legs. Wrapping my arms around her, I set my chin on her shoulder. "There are no sunny days…in public. I can't give you children, sweetheart. And if you decide to be with me…always…there are a few years of suffering thirst and anger, never mind how painful the change is. It's three days of just…burning." I kissed her shoulder over the top of her sweater, frowning when her heartbeat picked up. "But, Bella, you _must_ understand, I'll do whatever it is you tell me to, because…I belong to you. I can't change that."

Her smile was kind of silly, and her eyes glanced out of the corner at me. "Really? I get to keep you?"

"Yes." I laughed, releasing her when she turned to the side, but my laugh died when I tilted her gaze to mine. "I mean it, but all the rest is true. It's not an easy life."

"Will you tell me about it?" she asked so softly, playing with my fingers.

"Anything," I whispered.

She smiled, and it was secretive and utterly adorable. "So…mind reading… Is that all of you?"

"Nope, just me. Though, Jasper can feel and manipulate emotions. It's really a rather powerful talent. Some of us come through the change with extra senses or gifts. Carlisle isn't sure that it's something from our human lives or if it comes from the maker. For example, if Alice were to be changed, she might very well be an even stronger psychic."

Her nose wrinkled at that, but she nodded. "And you can't hear me?"

"No…no matter how badly I wish I could."

"Huh. Wonder why?" she mused, almost to herself.

I chuckled. "Well, if you figure it out, my love, then let me in on it."

She grinned. "Will do."

She asked at least fifty questions about me, all about my life – both human and immortal – but she froze for a moment, her cheeks tingeing pink.

"What?" I asked, tilting my head.

"It's just…you've lived so long. You said you waited for me, but was there…someone…"

I kissed her cheek, whispering, "No. Never. I waited for you, Bella. And it wasn't even out of duty; I just never felt…connected to anyone enough to even try."

"So…no one?"

"No, ma'am." I shook my head. "There are others that share our diet, another family, of sorts. Carlisle refers to them as cousins. They live in Alaska. One – Tanya – tried, but I didn't even give it a thought. She's a good friend, but no… Plus, her thoughts! Ugh!"

She laughed, her head falling back, and I pressed a chuckling kiss to her throat.

"I could ask the same of you, love," I whispered.

She rolled her eyes my way. "I'm a freak, remember? No one bothered with me. Once, a boy asked me to a school dance, but…" She snorted humorlessly, shaking her head. "I couldn't even answer him."

"I hate that you think of yourself that way," I muttered, frowning at her. "You're not a freak, Bella."

"I am to people who don't try to understand," she stated wisely. "And that's okay, because I've found that here…" She pointed to the floor. "I've been accepted here far better than where I came from."

"Good. I'm glad," I stated honestly.

We were quiet for a moment, but it was comfortable and easy. The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire. Bella played endlessly with my fingers, leaning her shoulder against my chest.

"Can I ask you something?" she whispered, looking up at me. At my nod, she said, "You don't want Leah to give me a reading…"

I grimaced, shaking my head, but before I could answer, she elaborated.

"It's just… I noticed your reaction to her offer. It had nothing to do with how far she is, did it?"

I sighed, linking our fingers together. "I do and I don't, Bella. She's damn accurate, trust me. Don't let her age fool you. She's sharp as a tack and just as sharp-tongued. She's been that way since she was a child."

Bella grinned, a slight giggle escaping her, but she waited for my answer.

"Leah sees things that can be scary…and sometimes, misinterpreted," I explained, tilting my head at her. "She can see or has predicted death, but she can't tell if it's death like…well, me…or if it's the end of someone's life. She wants to give you a reading, simply because you've been this…legend we weren't sure was coming true. You don't have to see her if you don't want, Bella."

Bella groaned, shaking her head. "Legend," she scoffed. "So Jacob Black is her son."

"Yes," I hedged, not knowing if I should reveal what he was or not.

"She seems too old…"

"He's older than he looks," I stated, staring into the fire for a second, but looking back at her. "He's not one of us, but he's proven to be what we think is immortal. He seemed to have stopped aging at about twenty-five." When her eyebrows shot up, I caved. Jacob would just have to forgive me, though knowing him, he wouldn't care. "The Blacks are cursed from a long, long time ago. Before me. Giselle's family history is strange. The women carry a gene that causes the men in their bloodline to shapeshift. For generations, if a boy was born, they were destroyed. When Leah had Jacob, it was late in her life, but she couldn't bear to harm him, so Carlisle and I vowed to protect him."

"That's awful," Bella breathed, frowning up at me. "About the killing…why?"

"Jacob transforms into a wolf – a damned big one, at that. He's been able to since he turned thirteen. Carlisle thinks it kicks in at puberty. But a long time ago, they were scared, so they killed the boys before they could turn. The girls don't change. That was why Giselle had a daughter, and her daughter had Leah, but Leah couldn't kill Jacob; she wanted him."

"So how old is Jacob?"

"Fifty-two," I said with a grin.

"Wow…you'd never know."

Chuckling, I said, "Good genes, I suppose, but really, the whole bloodline live to be very old, even the women. Leah's ninety-two. Giselle and Sue lived to be almost a hundred."

"What about the fathers?" she asked.

"It doesn't seem to matter," I told her, shrugging a shoulder. "None of the fathers were in the picture; they didn't stay around."

"Oh," she sighed, frowning at that, but then smiled up at me. "It was nice of you and Carlisle to 'stay around,' then."

Smiling, I kissed her temple for her sweet nature.

Bella's phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her pocket. "Alice. She's just checking on me."

I nodded and smiled as she answered her friend back quickly. She set the phone down on my table, staring at for a second.

"I'll have to pack tonight," she sighed, her brow furrowing, but her frown made me worried.

"Aren't you happy to be going home? It's Christmas."

"Yes and no," she murmured, her eyes on our hands. "I'm very comfortable here… I'll miss talking to you."

"That doesn't have to stop, love," I told her, tilting her head up. "You can always call me or text me." I reached over, picked up her phone, and programmed my number in. "There," I said, handing it back to her with a smile.

"Thanks," she said softly, glancing up at me. "It's not the same, though. I'll miss _you._"

Chuckling, I hugged her to me. "I'll miss you, too, sweetheart. If it makes you feel any better, I was considering following you. It's…in my nature. I can't be far from you for very long."

"Really?!" she gasped, turning to face me completely. "You're serious?"

Grinning and thinking Esme was right, I nodded. "You'd be okay with that?"

"Yes!" she squeaked, only to frown. "But it's Christmas. Shouldn't you be with your family?"

"Believe me, they get it, especially Carlisle and Esme," I told her. "I've spent more than my share of holidays with them, and I'd probably drive them crazy anyway."

"When will I see you? And what do we tell my parents?" she asked.

Cupping her face, I said, "I'll never be far from you, love. All you have to do is call or text, and I'll be there. And as far as your parents go, don't they know about your piano tutor?"

Bella snorted, rolling her eyes. "No. They barely know what the name of this school is."

I frowned at that. "They don't ask?"

"No."

"Hmm," I hummed, thinking of my next step. "Okay, well…we'll figure it out. If you aren't comfortable lying…"

"I don't talk, Edward," she countered. "I haven't said a word to either of them in months. I trust you. It's _you_ we have to keep secret…so whatever you want to do…"

Smiling, I dropped my forehead to hers, though her statement seemed to have more meaning. If she trusted me – especially enough to talk aloud – then did she not trust her own parents? I wasn't going to ask her that just yet, but it made my desire to hear their minds all the stronger.

"I'll think about it, Bella. I promise," I vowed. "I'm afraid I can't hide how I feel about you, so coming in as your tutor may be a bad idea."

"Or you could, just not as a twenty-two-year-old."

My eyebrows shot up, but she had a point. I could dress the part of an eighteen-year-old taking a year off before college. But I simply said, "We'll see." Frowning, I sighed deeply, shaking my head. "See, love…these are the things I was telling you. It's not easy – lying, deceiving – and you're still human, with parents to consider, a life to live…"

"I don't care!" she countered forcefully, shaking her head. "Don't all relationships come with sacrifice and compromise?"

A laugh barked out of me. "Yes, though usually it's not so life or death, Bella. It's where to go on dates, or who's a dog person versus cat. Or the radio station you listen to in the car. Not whether to lie to your parents about the fact that your boyfriend is a hundred and twenty-two-year-old immortal whose diet mainly centers around deer and moose."

Bella cracked up, and I had to admit as I chuckled with her that it was the sweetest sound.

"It's just…not right, love," I finished, still smiling as she giggled.

She shrugged a shoulder. "I only know how you make me feel, Edward. Everything else is…" She trailed off, but I understood what she was trying to say, though her eyebrow rose. "Boyfriend?"

It was my turn to shrug a shoulder. "It seems meager, that word, but…it's as good as any, I suppose. You're more than that, Bella." She leaned in, but I stopped her, saying, "I can't kiss you, love…"

"Can't? Or won't?" she asked, her cheeks blushing the sweetest pink.

"I can, and I want to. Badly."

She stayed quiet, looking up at me with hurt in her eyes. "But…"

"But I'm not going to…yet." She started to back away, but I held her close. "Bella, listen to me. We've discussed a lot of things in this room today. A lot of truths came out, but most importantly, you've come so far. I need you to take this Christmas break to think about everything."

"And you think a kiss will change something?" she argued.

"I know it will," I whispered, wanting it more than anything in my life. "Sweetheart, you must understand that…everything about us pulls you in – smell, voice, looks. The…The night I was changed, Maria was like a magnet…it was like I was put under a spell when she kissed me. She could've done anything to me at that point, and she did. I want you…truly, but I want you to think about what it means. Please. This…This is important to me."

"Does my…blood bother you?"

"No, love. I just want you sure…about everything."

She seemed to think for a moment, but nodded. "Okay," she finally conceded, though she looked adorably disgruntled about it, so I opted to distract her.

"I have something for you," I told her, smiling a little. "Your Christmas present."

"I haven't…"

"I don't need a thing, just you, but I wanted you to have something," I told her, getting up from the floor and walking to the desk. Reaching inside the middle drawer, I pulled out a small wrapped gift and walked back to her. I sat down on the sofa, patting the cushion beside me and handing it over. "I just…well, you'll see." I smiled when she carefully ripped the paper and cracked open the little velvet box. "I wanted to add to your bracelet."

She gasped, pulling out the charm. It was a heart, sparkling in the firelight. I took it from her, attaching it next to the piano, only to kiss her wrist.

"It was my mother's," I told her in a whisper against her skin. "I wanted you to have it."

I supposed it was symbolic at this point. She knew everything about me – what I was, what it would take to be with me – so I was giving her my heart for safekeeping, and she still looked up at me with loving, sweet tears in her eyes.

"No tears," I begged. "Too many of those today, love."

She nodded, swiping them away. "I love it. It's beautiful. Thank you."

Her phone vibrated across my table, and she smirked and sighed at the same time. "Alice, I'm sure. I promised we'd pack together and then eat dinner later."

"Go, Bella," I said, kissing the top of her head. "I'll see you during your break…"

She smiled, finishing with me. "If not sooner."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… So Edward's following Bella home… Did you think he wouldn't? ;) A lot of truths came out, and a lot still remains to be discussed. But big progress from Bella.**

**The posting schedule will go back to normal. I know, I'm sorry. ;) Pic teaser will be Thursday and Chapter 13 will be on Sunday. All teasers can be seen on my blog, FB, and Twitter. The links are on my profile. **

**If you're looking for something to read, check out FicSisters… They review some good stories out there. That link is also on my profile.**

**I'll see you guys later… Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N… Happy Easter to those that celebrate. :) **

**As I've said before, I saw this plot in sections…like 3-4 sections. It was this point…this chapter…that rounded off the first section for me. A hurdle, if you will. **

**This is the start of Christmas break. I'll let you get to it. See me at the bottom…**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 13**

**December 2001**

**BELLA**

The rumble of the train was soothing. A glance outside the window made me smile. It was snowing. A light dusting of white was all over everything, though the sky was a pale gray.

My fingers toyed with the crystal heart on my bracelet as I watched the forest fly by, only to glance at Alice across the table. We'd separate at Penn Station. She'd be catching a different train home to Mississippi, and I'd continue on to Boston, where Chelsea would be picking me up. She'd already messaged me.

I hadn't told Alice a thing that had transpired in the east wing. I felt a touch guilty about that, but she simply seemed satisfied that I was okay.

I was _more_ than okay. I was practically flying.

After spending almost all day Sunday with Edward, after all the secrets were out in the open, everything had made much more sense. But even more, the relief of finally telling someone – someone that truly cared – what had happened the night my dad had died made me feel lighter, like I didn't have to carry that burden anymore. The release of it all almost made me feel high, but nauseous at the same time. It was as if I'd been filled with a poison, and Edward had helped me get rid of it.

However, I still stayed silent outside his presence, but I wondered now if that was out of habit, or if I'd ever trust anyone other than him.

The thought of Edward made me smile. There were a few things of which I was absolutely certain. He was, indeed, a hundred and twenty-two-year-old vampire who'd been born in the house that was now my school. He'd waited a hundred years for me – his soul mate – for what he'd said had been the best part of a fortune he'd been given so long ago. He was fast, strong, and he'd live forever. And despite all those differences, he was still _my_ Edward. He was sweet and kind and beautiful – inside and out, whether he liked to admit it or not – and I was completely in love with him.

I gazed down at the brand new blue journal that rested on the table in front of me, smirking at it. I'd found it on my nightstand – along with a perfect pink rose – that very morning just before I was set to leave the castle for Christmas break. I hadn't seen him all day on Monday for our last day of classes, but he'd texted with me. Though it was what was inside the new journal that made me smile.

_My beautiful Bella,_

_I want to do this the right way this time, my love. I want nothing but to be honest on these pages. All our secrets are gone, and I know you miss writing in your journal. I also know that I've left you with things to think about that perhaps you'd be more comfortable expressing here, instead of verbally._

_That being said, I'm so very proud of you. And I know it wasn't easy telling me something you've kept inside for so long, so I want to thank you for trusting me. I'm well aware that it was probably the hardest thing you've ever done._

_Sweetheart, I'd like you to feel free to ask me anything, whether it's here in the __journal, in__ person, or even by text. Nothing about me is off limits to you. I'll always tell you the truth. In fact, you have no idea how hard it was for me to keep myself split into two people with how I'd mistakenly done things before. I don't want that anymore, Bella. I only want honesty and truth between us._

_I know I've given you a lot to think about – decisions that aren't easy to make – over your holiday break. My years are long and my experience is vast, but I won't pretend to know everything. I don't. I can't imagine how difficult it is. In some __ways, we're__ a lot alike, but in some ways, we're so different. You should know that I'll never force your hand when it comes to this life, being with me. You've now heard __everything, and__ you're so smart, Bella. I love you – more than my own life – and hearing you say the words back was more than I ever expected, but I know that the changes you'll have to make will not be easy. I will – under no uncertain terms – respect whatever decision you make._

_No matter what, I'd love the honor of seeing you New Year's Eve. No pressure, no decisions have to be made, because we were friends first, and I will miss you so very much. I realize that you've missed your family, though, that you've been a little homesick, so I hope that you enjoy your Christmas, love. I wouldn't dare intrude on that, despite the fact that I'll be close, but I really would love to see you._

_You have my phone number, but I'd like you to promise me one thing, my sweet girl. Please promise me if you need anything – I don't care how slight you think it to be – call me, text me. Even if you just need to talk or you have a nightmare or whatever…please call me. I'm never far from you._

_Bella, I'm leaving this notebook for you. I meant what I said – that we can start over. I can't apologize enough for deceiving you, nor can I thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to tell you everything. I thought it was only fair that I start us out this time._

_My apologies for sneaking into your room, but I'm afraid I had no alternative as I had to leave before the sun came up. I won't be able to see you off before you leave for home. I needed to hunt, as well as attend to some business matters in New York before I make my way to Boston. I hated that it had to be this way, and I'll more than explain when or if I see you, but I wanted to get it finished before I left so that I would be available if you needed me._

_You're very welcome for your Christmas present. As I gave it to you, I realized how symbolic it had become. You now have me – heart, body, and soul. You've expressed it more than one time that you're worried that I'll grow tired, and I understand you feel that others have given up on you, but I promise you, my Bella, that I'm not going anywhere. I can't speak for others, nor will I try, but you are my life now._

_I love you._

_E_

Smiling at the hotel information he'd left for me at the very bottom, I closed the notebook.

If anything, that was the best note he'd left me. It was everything MG wasn't and all of Edward's heart right there on paper in his beautiful script. He'd put the ball in my court. Completely. And while I knew, without a doubt, that I loved him, I also knew that there was so much to think about. He'd been right; everything had to change, but the real part of him would have to stay secret, hidden. He called it playing a part, and I loved that he trusted me with the truth. He had to be one thing to the human world around him, and I understood that. I also understood that in order to be with him, I had to learn how to play a part, too, and that it wouldn't be easy. I'd have to lie to family and friends in order to protect him – him and his family.

If Dr. and Mrs. Cullen were worried, I couldn't tell. They'd been at the train station, seeing us all off. They'd given me waves and smiles, and when I'd started to apologize for taking Edward away from them for the holidays, Dr. Cullen had simply chuckled, squeezed my shoulder, and told me that Edward was doing what was best for him and not to apologize.

As the forests started to give way to the city, I glanced up at Alice. As badly as I wanted to share, I knew I couldn't. At least, not right away. This was a decision I needed to make, a reality I had to come to terms with, and even though I trusted her, I needed to do this alone. However, I knew Alice was in love with Jasper, and Edward had told me that Jasper knew and felt the same, only he seemed to be fighting it, where Edward had given in. He'd said it was hard to do, fight the pull to a soul mate, and Edward didn't want to fight anymore, but he honestly didn't know how Jasper had lasted this long. Edward had explained that staying away from me, not being honest, and not being able to express how he felt actually started to become painful, that Jasper had a small advantage of being able to manipulate Alice's feelings. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but Edward promised me he'd talk to him.

I really had no idea how Edward and I would have a relationship, but I supposed that was part of the big picture. I almost didn't care if we had to keep our love secret, for a while, at least. However, the one thing I did know was that I loved him, that I trusted him, and that for the first time in my life, I'd told someone about the night my dad had died.

What I hadn't expected were the feelings that came with expelling the story of that awful night. I felt a little raw, incredibly exposed, kind of empty, and emotionally thin, but I also saw holes in my story…or maybe missing moments in my memory. I wanted to know what had set my dad on edge months before we'd been robbed. Why had he been so angry? Had he known someone was coming? Did something happen with his job to scare him? I'd never given it any thought before, though I'd been locked in my own head for so long that it wasn't surprising.

The problem was…I wasn't sure who I could ask. Any talk of my dad or that night made my mother nervous and upset. Phil hadn't been around at the time. The only person that came to mind was Chelsea, and I wasn't sure what she'd be able to tell me.

"You okay?" Alice asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I nodded, smiling her way. My eyebrows shot up at how quickly the trip to Penn Station had gone by. Frowning, I looked over at her.

"Don't sweat it. It seemed you were making some decisions," she stated knowingly with a tap to her temple. "I let you be. I, um…I hope you find out some answers, Bella," she said, gathering up her things. "Text me? Email?" she asked, standing up from our table.

I got up when she did, and we hugged. "Merry Christmas, Alice," I whispered in her ear.

She grinned, pulling back. "You, too. Let me know what'cha get."

I giggled. "Like you won't see it."

"True," she said with a laugh and a wave over her shoulder. "But you can still tell me!" she called out before leaving the train.

**~oOo~**

By the time the train pulled into Boston, I'd nodded off a few times, but never completely fallen asleep. I was too afraid of having a nightmare, which would've been embarrassing had I woken up screaming.

I'd only brought one bag, figuring I could wear the clothes I'd left at home, so I didn't have to wait for anything. I found Chelsea by the magazine stand just like she'd said she'd be, and I rushed to her.

"My sweet girl!" she gushed, hugging me fiercely and swaying me back and forth. "Gracious, Bella… You've gotten prettier, I think."

Giggling and rolling my eyes, I pulled back and let her look me over. She cupped my face, smiling warmly as she looked me up and down.

Her eyes narrowed on my face. "Hmm, something's different about you. You're practically glowing. That school suits you. You must like it."

I nodded and smiled widely.

"That's really good, sweetie. I read your report card. You're top of your class," she explained, grinning when I shrugged. "C'mon, silly girl. Let's get you home. I've made your favorites tonight."

She led me to her car, stashing my bag in the trunk. When I sat down, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I couldn't help but smile at Edward's text, and I replied instantly.

_**E – Just making sure you got to Boston safely, **__**Bella.**_

_**B – I just got in. I'm with Chelsea now.**_

_**E – Good. Have fun. I'll be in town by tomorrow, love. Call me if you need me.**_

_**B – I will. I promise. Love you…miss you.**_

_**E – Love you, too, my Bella.**_

I had to bite my lip to control my little troop of heavily armed butterflies in my stomach. I wondered if they would always get riled up when Edward told me he loved me. I kind of hoped they did.

"Hmm, maybe it's not the school, but someone in it that has you all smiling and glowing," Chelsea teased from the driver's seat as she pulled out onto the street.

My face heated, and I shrugged, then nodded. "Maybe," I finally said softly aloud.

Chelsea laughed, loud and heartily. "Good for you, sweetie. You gonna tell me about this guy, or what?"

Shaking my head, I whispered, "Not yet. And please don't tell Mom. I'm not…"

Chelsea looked at me, her jovial face sobering quickly. "Yeah, Bella. No problem."

She changed the subject quickly, catching me up on all the latest gossip and news – from what the neighbors were doing, which was getting divorced, to how her son was excelling in college. When we pulled into my driveway, I was shocked to see Mom's and Phil's cars both parked in front of the garage.

Chelsea chuckled. "I had to threaten them both, not only to clear today of plans, but to give me the job of picking you up. I missed you, Bella."

Grinning, I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Me, too."

I walked inside to find the house already decorated for Christmas. I felt a little pang of missing out on it, which we usually did after Thanksgiving, but the place looked amazing.

"I wanted to wait for you, but your mom insisted that we decorate with the rest of the neighborhood," Chelsea explained once we were inside, though her sarcasm was loud and clear. "Like I could give a shit what that old woman on the corner's doin'."

Giggling, I sighed. Some things never changed. Chelsea, despite the fact that her paycheck rested upon doing as my mother said, really had no patience for "keeping up with the Joneses."

I heard my mother's voice. "Bella, is that you?"

I spun in one spot, smiling when I saw her. I'd missed her. Rushing to her, I gave her a hug, waving at Phil as he leaned against the wall. He was smiling as he watched us.

"Welcome home, Bells," he said.

I felt my eye twitch at the nickname only my dad had used, but as I smiled in greeting, I realized I'd never told him not to call me that.

Mom cupped my face, smiling at me. "Lord, Bella, you've gotten even more beautiful. I'm so sorry about Thanksgiving. I meant to tell you sooner, but we weren't sure we were going until a few weeks ahead of time."

Smiling, I stopped her with my fingers on her lips. "S'okay. I had fun."

The whole room came to a standstill, my mother inhaling sharply when I spoke aloud for the first time since way before the last summer. Chelsea grinned like the Cheshire Cat, but merely stepped past us into the kitchen. My mom looked like she was about to cry, but Phil's eyes narrowed on me. I ignored it all, picking up my bag and pointing toward the stairs.

"Yeah, sure. Go put your stuff in your room, Bella," Mom said, giving me a watery smile. "Get yourself cleaned up. We'll eat lunch when you're ready."

Nodding, I made my way up the stairs. I avoided the sixth one, simply because I hated the sound it made. It not only creaked loudly, but it was a sound that was forever in my nightmares. I'd avoided it before, and I probably always would.

My room was exactly the same. It sat untouched, except that it looked like Chelsea had come in to change my sheets and dust a little. Gazing around, I had to smirk at just how different my room was here compared to my dorm room that I shared with Alice. At school, it was dark woods, deep red curtains, and thick rugs. My room at home was white furniture, which was aimed toward a little girl, pinks and purples everywhere, and light beige carpet. Suddenly, I missed the castle so much that it made my heart hurt.

With a deep breath, I set my things down, went into the bathroom to freshen up, and made my way back downstairs. Lunch was quiet. In fact, the house stayed quiet for the next few days. Phil would work in the day, and sometimes, my mom, Chelsea, and I would go shopping or to lunch.

Edward had texted me when he arrived at his hotel, and occasionally, he'd send sweet messages that simply said "I love you" or "I miss you," but otherwise, he gave me space. Part of me appreciated it, but another part of me needed him on a level I didn't understand. I found myself shaking with the need to call him, but I didn't. I pushed through it because it wasn't always the most convenient times. I wasn't ready to share him with my family, and I also wasn't ready to let them know I'd found one person that I could truly speak to.

It wasn't until the night before Christmas Eve that I caved. I woke up a sweaty, shaking mess from a nightmare. The house was so quiet, except for the ticking of the clock on my wall. I fumbled in my sheets, sat up, and rubbed my face, finally reaching for my phone. I considered texting him, but dialed him instead. He picked up before the second ring.

"Bella?"

"Hey," I sighed, falling back to my pillow as the velvety voice I'd needed so much met my ear.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Swallowing nervously, I sighed. "Nightmare."

"I'm sorry," he replied softly. "It's not real, love. I promise you, no one will ever touch you again."

"You keep saying that…"

"Because I mean it," he countered with a sexy, yet nervous chuckle, and I could almost see him clawing at his hair with his long fingers. "I…I can't explain it, Bella, but it's the reason I'm here in Boston. I can't _not_ protect you. It's… How do I put it without scaring you?"

"Instinct?" I supplied, grinning when he chuckled.

"Okay, so it won't scare you. Yes, exactly, love. Instinct," he agreed. "Bella, keeping you safe has become my top priority now. I know that sounds…intense, but I can't help it. It started almost the moment you walked into the castle."

I couldn't help but smile a little at that. He'd told me about his struggle, about how he hadn't been prepared for me.

"Edward?"

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you for the journal…and the rose," I told him, sitting up and getting the blue notebook out of my nightstand. I'd taken a petal and pressed it at the bottom of his entry before I'd left school.

"You're most welcome," he said, his voice dropping a little in tenor. "I'm sorry I couldn't see you off. I wanted to, believe me. I _wanted _to ride with you on the train, but I needed to see the lawyer in New York first."

"That's okay."

"Okay," he sighed in relief, and I had to grin, because despite how much we'd confessed in the east wing, despite how much he'd seen in his long life, there was a part of Edward that was as nervous as I was, and I loved that.

"Edward?"

He chuckled. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"I love you."

"God, Bella…I love you, too."

"And I want to see you on New Year's."

He gasped. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure? Bella, I didn't want to push. I know I said I'd give you time…"

"Yes, I'm sure," I said giggling a little.

I wanted to tell him I didn't need time, that three days away from him was too long, even if we'd go that long or longer at school without seeing each other. There was something comforting about knowing he was at least in the same building as I was, but here, at home, it was different. He was only a few blocks away – a short cab ride, really – and it felt like he was unreachable.

I wanted to tell him that I needed _him_, not time. That I'd meant what I'd said in his room, that he made me feel like me, like I was _real_ again. For years after the death of my father, after I'd healed, I felt shallow, thin, like a shadow in my own home. And since being back, I'd started to feel that way again. At Masen Manor, when I was with Edward, I felt whole.

"Then, I'm there, love," he vowed. "I'll pick you up. Leave everything to me, including what we tell your parents, okay?"

"Okay, I trust you," I told him.

"I know, and you have no idea what that means to me," he murmured softly, yet it sounded so sexy in my ear, though I ruined it by yawning widely, which made him chuckle. "Get some sleep, Bella. I'll see you soon…"

"If not sooner," I finished for him, kind of hoping it was sooner than a week before I saw him.

"Absolutely," he sighed with a sweet laugh. "Merry Christmas, Bella."

"Merry Christmas, Edward."

**~oOo~**

I sat at the piano, sheet music spread out all over the top of my baby grand. There was a melody in my head I couldn't quite get right. I'd been charting, playing, testing, and erasing most of the morning. I almost called Edward to help me, but thought better of it. My mother had a few neighbors over, and they were chatting in the kitchen.

Christmas had come and gone, and I was now counting the days until I could see Edward on New Year's Eve. The holiday had been a strange one. We'd celebrated with Chelsea on Christmas Eve, and Phil had invited a few coworkers over for dinner on Christmas Day. The three men had made me anxious, so I'd stayed quiet. As soon as we'd eaten, I'd escaped to my room, texting the rest of the night with Alice, who'd seen that I'd gotten a new laptop as a gift from my mother. I was glad it wasn't a repeat of the year before; I'd had a panic attack when one of his friends had sounded eerily familiar. Luckily, the same guy hadn't said much this time around, so I was able to get out of the dining room quickly.

A sour note hit the air, and I wrinkled my nose, getting up to erase what I'd written, and when I went to change it, the pencil lead snapped. With a deep sigh, I glanced around the library for another one, but didn't see one. I walked to my father's old desk, sitting down in his chair. I couldn't help but smile at the smell of old leather and his cologne that wafted up to my nose. Instead of making me sad, it made me remember sitting in his lap as he told me what bad guys he was dealing with that week.

I opened the middle drawer, poking around for a spare pencil or even a sharpener, simply to keep from having to run upstairs. I checked the right side drawer, and then the left. I was just about to give up when I looked in the left one more time. I shoved tape, paperclips, and Post-it notes around, only to stop when I noticed something about the wooden drawer bottom. It seemed loose, or off somehow.

Glancing up at the library door, I listened as the women in the kitchen laughed loudly. I went back to the drawer, carefully and quietly removing the items from inside it. I found a letter opener in the middle drawer and used it to pry up the loose bottom. It wasn't just loose, though; it was a false bottom. Underneath was a manila envelope with my dad's name on the outside. I noticed it had been mailed to his office, not our house.

Pulling the large envelope out and making sure there was nothing else underneath, I let the false bottom drop back down. My hands shook as I stared at my dad's name. He'd always been honest and open, so I wasn't quite sure I wanted to see what he'd hidden, but I couldn't stop myself.

I peeked in, seeing nothing but a stack of papers, so I pulled them out and set them on top of the desk. There was a letter on top from Harry Clearwater's Private Investigation Firm.

_Dear Charles Swan,_

_I believe you'll find the evidence that you'd requested. Your suspicions were __correct, as__ you'll see with the photographic proof I've sent you. All pictures are date and __time-stamped__ for your convenience._

_In addition to interviewing coworkers, neighbors, and friends of the man in question, I also ran a background check, which is also attached. However, you can see that Phil Dwyer meets up with your wife several times a week, mostly during the daytime hours._

_As far as Chelsea Redding goes, you can rest easy in knowing that no nefarious activity was witnessed. She follows a rather strict routine, her financial situation is a little __strained – though__ that is to be expected with most of her pay going to college tuition for a Timothy __Redding – and__ she rarely deviates from her short drives from picking up Isabella and bringing her home from school._

_If we can assist you in the future, please let me know._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Clearwater_

My heart stopped completely. I shoved the letter aside and went through the pictures. On top were a few of Chelsea going about her normal day, and there were a few with me in them. But it was farther into the stack of pictures that made tears spring to my eyes.

Phil and my mother were caught outside his job, outside a hotel, in his car, even a few at the park not far from his office. And it wasn't really that they'd been photographed kissing, hugging, gazing at one another… It was the damn _dates_. My whole body started to shake, seeing that they'd been taken several months _prior_ to my dad's death.

Now I understood why my father had been so angry before he'd died.

Movement at the doorway made my head snap up. Seeing my mother only served to push my temper over the edge. I held up a picture of her and Phil in a car, my lip twitching in pure hatred.

"Chelsea made that chocolate cake you like so much, Bel—"

"You cheated," I hissed, trying to control the volume. Now wasn't the time to panic for speaking too loud. "On Daddy! You cheated on him?"

My mother looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her mouth fell open and closed, making her look like a fish in a tank, and she had the nerve to shake her head.

"No?" I asked, getting up from the desk and walking to her with the stack of pictures. With every one I'd slide to the back of the pile, she'd flinch, though I could imagine that being caught in the act was a little shocking. From her frightened expression, I could see that she'd had no idea that Dad knew. "How long?" I asked her, narrowing my eyes on her.

"B-Bella…" she stuttered, looking up at me.

I could well imagine what was going through her mind. I hadn't said ten words to them in a year, but I was in her face asking about this. I raised my eyebrows impatiently as I waited for an answer.

"A-About six months before Charlie died," she whispered. When I spun around to walk back to the desk, she started to ramble. "We…We didn't know how to tell you, Bella! We hid it from you, and we're sorry, but…"

Glaring her way, I shook my head and shoved everything back into the manila envelope. My hands were shaking, and I was about a second away from my knees buckling, but I had to get out of the house. I had to get away from her, or I'd do or say something I'd regret…or something that would send me into a panic.

I snatched up the envelope and made my way to the door.

"Bella, we _couldn't_ tell you!" she defended, grabbing the sleeve of my sweater. "You weren't…well. Everything set you off…"

Gritting my teeth, I sneered, "Not that you put forth much effort, though, right?"

Sliding by her, I ran up the stairs and into my room, I slammed the door and walked to my closet. I was pulling on my coat when there was a light knock on the door. I glared at Chelsea when she poked her head in.

"Sweetie, what's wrong? I heard some…" she started, but shut up when I held up a finger.

Walking to the bed, I snatched up the envelope. "Did you know?" I asked her simply.

She pulled the stack of papers out about halfway, only needing to see the top picture and the date stamped on it. Her worried expression immediately morphed into something akin to fury.

She shook her head slowly. "No, sweet girl, I didn't. I suspected, but I never thought she'd do that to Charlie," she said, and her face was open, honest, and a little surprised when she handed me back the envelope. She tilted her head at me. "Where you goin', Bella?"

"Out."

She nodded, reaching for my wool beanie in my hand. She smoothed my hair, tugging it down onto my head, only to reach up and wrap my scarf tighter. Finally, she cupped my face, bringing my head up to kiss my cheek.

"You have someone to talk to," she surmised. It wasn't a question. When I nodded, a tiny smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. "Good, but remember your curfew, and stay warm."

My eyes flickered to the sound of someone coming up the stairs, but Chelsea sighed deeply, like she was trying to find her own patience. However, we both relaxed when the sound of my mother's bedroom door clicked closed.

"Go, Bella. I'll deal with them," she ordered, handing me the envelope and my wallet and pushing me out my door.

I bolted down the stairs and through the foyer, yanking the front door open. The cold hit me like a brick wall, but I practically met the sidewalk at a run. I needed Edward. I needed to see him, or else I'd fall apart. Or maybe I needed him _in order_ to fall apart. I wasn't sure.

Once I reached the corner, I hailed a cab, whispering the name of the hotel. It wasn't even a ten-minute car ride, and then I tossed money up to the driver before getting out. Nothing really hit me until I was alone in the elevator. Suddenly, my chest hurt, my hands shook, and tears ran unchecked down my face. I could barely breathe, much less see as I stumbled down the corridor to the end.

I knocked on room 1056, the sound muffled due to my gloves and how badly I was shaking. The door swung open before I even finished knocking, revealing the only thing I needed more than air.

"Christ, Bella," Edward whispered, reaching for me. "What happened?"

Immediately, I was wrapped in strong-as-steel arms before I could fall to the floor. I'd barely registered the hotel room door closing before I lost it all.

**~oOo~**

**EDWARD**

"No, Jasper," I growled into the phone, shaking my head as I paced back and forth. "I followed Phil for two solid days before he took off for Christmas. He simply goes to work and then home. Once, he took a long lunch with a few coworkers, but that looked like an office holiday thing."

"What about the mom?" he asked.

"She's been home with Bella," I sighed, gazing out the window of the hotel. The snow had finally stopped and the sun had come out. I was stuck inside until tonight. "Nothing to see there."

"Brother, what about…that guy you read about in her journal…the one that you said caused her to panic last Christmas?"

"Mm, yeah, I definitely want to see him," I sneered. "My guess is that Bella's mind was trying to tell her something, but…I don't know, Jasper." I sighed deeply, gripping my hair and glancing over at my computer that I'd been using to not only keep up with the school's finances, but to search for more information about Bella's situation. "We're completely missing some major point…"

My voice trailed off because I'd heard the elevator ding down the hall. And it wasn't even the elevator that caught my attention; it was the lack of thoughts as footsteps hurried down the corridor. Breathing deeply, my still heart swelled – flowers, fruit, _Bella_.

"Jasper, I gotta go," I muttered, ending the call before he could say anything.

I tossed the phone onto the bed and rushed to the door. She knocked softly twice, but I yanked the door open before the third time. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't the broken, beautiful girl that practically stumbled in.

"Christ, Bella," I gasped, scooping her up bridal style in my arms. "What happened?"

She only answered me with the most heartbreaking sobs that she buried into my neck as I kicked the hotel room door closed. I carried her over to the suite's sofa, sitting down, but keeping her across my lap. I rocked her slowly, holding her as tightly as I felt comfortable, because it seemed she couldn't get close enough. I gave her a mental onceover, making sure she wasn't hurt, but the only thing different was the large manila envelope in her hand.

I tugged at it, finally releasing it from her gloved hand. I noted her father's name on the label, but set it to the side. She was more important at the moment, though I was pretty damn sure her reaction was a result of what was in that package.

"Bella, love…breathe for me," I soothed her, pulling off her woolen cap and running my hand over her head and down her back. "I can't help if I don't know…"

"I know… I'm sorry," she hiccupped.

"Don't be sorry," I murmured, looking up at her sweet face when she pulled back. "What happened, sweetheart?"

Her entire being shivered, but her face was rage and anger and something I had to say was betrayal as she snatched off her gloves and scarf and set them aside. I reached up and wiped the tears away, feeling whole for the first time in days. We'd been apart for too long, but I was doing my best to give her space, to let her make her choice.

"I was in my dad's desk…he'd hidden that," she said, pointing to the envelope, but her nostrils flared, her mouth went into a tight line. "They _cheated_! My mom and Phil f-f-f…cheated on my dad!"

I wanted to smirk at her almost curse, but didn't. Instead, I suddenly understood why Charlie Swan may have completely unraveled months prior to his death.

"And my dad knew, Edward," she whispered, more tears rolling down her beautiful face. "He must've been so _hurt_."

"And angry, I bet," I agreed, reaching for the package. "May I, Bella?" I asked her, receiving a nod as an answer.

She slipped slowly off my lap, and even though I hated the loss of her touch, at least she stayed pretty close to my side, setting her cheek against my upper arm.

I pulled everything out of the envelope, setting it on my lap. My brow furrowed as I read that not only had Charlie investigated his wife, but the housekeeper, as well. I was glad that Chelsea had come up clean – it would've devastated Bella – but he'd apparently suspected his own wife enough to have her followed.

The entire case was in my hands. Photos of Chelsea picking up a thirteen-year-old Bella from school were on top, but my head shook slowly as I saw damning evidence of Renee's betrayal. Every photo had a date and time, which were several months before the robbery, and they were mostly in the daytime hours, but there was one at a bar at night. I set the photos aside, picking up a background check on Phil Dwyer. It wasn't anything I hadn't seen, except for a few names listed as friends that were new to me. Otherwise, it was the same dead end regarding Charlie's death. That thought made me set it all down and turn back to the sweet, sniffling girl beside me.

I turned a little, cupping her face. "All that aside, what happened to send you to me?"

She swallowed nervously. "I…I…yelled at my mom!"

"Oh," I sighed, frowning, but leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "Did you panic?"

She shook her head, looking down at her hands between us. She fiddled with her charm bracelet, most specifically the heart I'd given her. "No," she said grumpily. "I was too pissed to panic."

I grinned briefly, simply because she was too adorable for words, even when angry. "Obviously."

Her mouth twitched with a brief smile, but she leaned closer. I wrapped my arms around her in a hug.

"I just needed away from her," she mumbled against my chest. "I can't believe she did that to Dad. I just can't."

I kissed the top of her head, asking, "How'd she react, love? When you confronted her?"

Bella pulled back. "Oh, she tried to lie, but then…I showed her, you know? And then…she blamed their lies on me being…"

"Incapacitated," I finished.

She snorted, rolling her eyes up to mine. "You put it mildly. She said I reacted poorly to anything, so they kept it hidden." Suddenly, she sagged in a defeated posture. "Maybe I did." She shook her head slowly. "God, how bad was I?"

I cupped her face. "Isabella, you were in shock, grieving, and traumatized, not to mention severely injured. _No one_ should blame you for any reaction you had. If they do, then that's _their_ problem. Understand?"

She sighed and then nodded. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make everything okay."

Chuckling, I hugged her again. "It's my new job. I like it very much."

She nuzzled into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, but I could feel her smile against my skin. "I've missed you."

"Me, too, love."

I held her close for a few quiet moments, until she pulled back again, gazing up at me, her nose wrinkling a bit. "Damn, I forgot your Christmas present."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I'll live, I assure you."

She gazed over at the pile of pictures, frowning. "That's probably what made my dad so angry before he died," she murmured, almost to herself.

Oh, to be in her mind, but I could read her gorgeous face pretty well. The wheels were spinning, the facts not quite adding up, and the questions were swirling around in her head. But there was fear, too. I could practically feel it. She almost didn't _want_ to know.

"Maybe," I hedged softly, but she looked to me.

Her eyes narrowed. "You know something…"

I shook my head. "No, Bella, I don't. I should confess that I've looked into…" I grimaced a little. "I've looked into what happened to you that night, but I've come up empty."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because I love you, and you'd told me – or MG, really – that you were still scared of those men coming back. I just…I wanted to _know_. I wanted to see if I could help. I know it was considered a cold case, but I thought maybe with a different perspective, a few…not-so-legal contacts, and the fact that I could read minds might get some answers. I haven't gotten far, and I didn't mean to pry, but I just…couldn't let you stay scared, sweetheart. I can't help it," I rambled, bracing myself for her temper.

She shook her head, and for a moment, I assumed she'd be angry with me for going behind her back. Jasper had all but made a bet with me that she'd be pissed off for being nosey, but her mouth hung open for a moment. Her brow furrowed a little, but she reached up and placed her hands flat on either side of my face.

Suddenly, her lips were on mine, and I froze at the shock of it. My hands held her waist, pushing back just a little. When I hadn't responded, she stopped, looking away with reddening cheeks.

"Sorry…"

"You gotta warn a vampire, Bella," I teased, smirking when she snorted and looked up at me. "You moved too quickly," I whispered in explanation, leaning forward and resting my forehead against hers. "Does this mean…"

"I don't need to think about it, Edward," she said softly, her breathing picking up and her heart about to thunder right out of her chest. "No one's _ever_ taken care of me like you. No one's cared to even keep up with the investigation, much less ask about the cold case. You… I don't care what it takes, or if we have to sneak around… For the first time since my dad died, I feel safe and loved and secure. I'm _talking_, Edward, and I don't even know how you do it."

My fingers slipped into her hair, and I brushed my thumb across her lips. Just that brief temptation, and I wanted to kiss her so badly that a growl was rumbling through me.

Bella's deep brown eyes met mine, and my chest ached for her to say the words I could see all over her face. "I love you, and…and…I want you to kiss me."

The moan I released was unstoppable. My eyes closed because I'd never heard anything so perfect.

Leaning so close that our lips were barely touching, I whispered, "Slowly, love. I _have_ to be careful. I could hurt you."

"You…could _never_ hurt me," she countered.

"Humor me, then," I argued with a half-smile.

She didn't say anything, but she held her breath. I brushed my lips across hers over and over, testing myself, my strength, her reaction. I wasn't so sure which part of kissing her was the best part – the intensity of finally feeling connected to my soul mate, the sweet whimper that erupted from Bella, or the actual taste of her. Her blood pounded in my ears as I tilted her head just a little, but it held no draw to me, not in the usual way that human blood would pull me in. No, the draw was to truly…_kiss her_.

With one slow, tentative flick of my tongue along her bottom lip, we both simply fell over some sort of edge. Strong, nimble fingers threaded into my hair, holding me close and urging me on.

It had been a long time since I'd last kissed a woman, but this was completely different. I'd been human then, and that woman had been immortal. I'd been Maria's meal, so there had been no emotions, except my inebriated ego and eventual fear. This was every emotion that existed. It didn't matter that my last kiss was a hundred years ago, or that I had no experience beyond kissing; all that mattered was just how right it all felt.

Bella and I moved at the same time. I sat back in the sofa at the same time she crawled into my lap. Tongues met as Bella loomed over me. And as much as I loved her in control, I slowed the kiss down. Keeping my sharp teeth away from her, I sucked her top lip, and then bottom, only to pull back. I didn't need the air, but I panted anyway as her forehead thumped to mine.

"Okay, so I get it now…" she whispered, grinning when my eyes opened in curiosity. "A kiss did change things."

Chuckling, I pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. "Indeed, my love."

She giggled, and it sounded free and happy, and I felt like a damn king that I'd done that to her.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?" I hummed, trailing my fingers across her cheek. I was trying to shift myself just a little so my immediate erection wouldn't frighten her, but she seemed oblivious, which was actually a good thing, because I knew neither of us was ready to face that situation just yet. We had a long way to go, not because Bella was too young – age was a useless thing to me at this point – but because emotionally, she wasn't ready. Nor was I, if I were being honest with myself. The best part was knowing we had time. Plenty of it.

"What happens now?" she asked, her nose wrinkling when I looked at her questioningly. "How do we…"

Smiling a little, I said, "We do what we want, love. It's that simple. Unfortunately, we'll be living two separate truths – the _real_ truth, and the one we want everyone else to see." I shrugged a shoulder. "Are you ready for that?"

She was nodding before I finished. "Yes," she barely said aloud. "I know what you are, Edward, but it's who you are to me that matters."

I pressed another kiss to her lips. "Thank you, Bella."

She smiled and nodded, but that beautiful smile fell quickly as she glanced over at the pile of pictures. "And that?"

"Your mom…isn't perfect, Bella," I told her gently. "And human relationships can be…complicated." I tapped my temple to let her know that I'd heard it all in my long years. "Humans are flawed and they make many mistakes, but she and Phil are still together, so maybe they fell in love simply at the wrong time."

Bella's nose wrinkled. "How could she have done that to my dad?" she groaned, shaking her head.

"That's something only she can answer," I said, lightly touching the scar that marred her pretty skin. "But this… You need to tell me what you want, love. If you want my help, it's yours. I'll do everything within my power to find out who did this to you," I vowed, still paying reverence to that scar. "But if you don't, then we'll let it go and move on about our lives."

She grinned at something I said, and when I looked confused, she simply echoed, "_Our_ lives."

I smiled back. "Yes, ma'am."

"I like the sound of that," she said, kissing me, though she remembered to move slowly. When she pulled back, she was serious again. "Okay, go ahead, but will you promise to be careful?"

I kissed her again, unable to stop now that we'd taken that step, but I nodded slowly. "I promise, but no one can take me away from you, Bella."

What I didn't say aloud was that not even little cowards wearing ski masks could scare me, and I hoped with everything I had that they'd try.

As Bella snuggled against me, it was hard to keep the smile from my face.

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… They kissed! You guys have been DYING for that! LOL And another piece falls into place. Renee and Phil were busted cheating **_**before**_** Charlie died. Not even Renee knew that she'd been busted. ;) And Edward came clean about looking into Bella's case. I know some of you were worried about that secret. I know everyone is itching for Edward to **_**get in that damn house!**_** LOL Soon…I promise. **

**No real big questions this time around, most of you are just ready for Edward to read some minds…and kick ass. LOL ;) ****Poor Edward…most of you are relying on him completely when it comes to Bella's parents – specifically Renee. ;) I don't blame you.**

**Okay, we'll see you Thursday for the pic tease and again on Sunday. :) Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N… As a thank you for all the reviews (holy hell, MM broke 2500!), recs, and love, I'm posting an extra chapter this week. Plus, you guys are **_**dying**_** for Edward to get into Bella's house. ;) Well, you're in luck. This whole chapter is all Edward…**

**This picks up right where Chapter 13 left off: Edward's hotel room. I'll let you get to it. See me at the bottom…**

**~oooOOOooo~**

**Chapter 14**

**December 2001**

**EDWARD**

"Bella?" I whispered against the side of her head. When she hummed, I smiled into her hair. "Not that I'm complaining, but how long can I keep you?"

She snickered a little, pulling her head away from my shoulder and looking around the hotel room. "I can stay out until my curfew," she stated.

Smirking, I tilted my head. "And that is?"

"Eleven," she sighed, looking down at her hands. "I don't want to go yet."

"Okay, well…unfortunately, I'm stuck inside until the sun goes down, love," I told her, pointing toward the window.

"I figured," she murmured, smirking a little. "I'm kinda glad. At least you were here."

I kissed her nose. "Had you called me, I would've come to you from anywhere…even if I hadn't been here."

She nodded and smiled, slipping off my lap and wandering around the room. She finally took off her coat and draped it across the bed before turning to me.

"You've been stuck in here?"

"Not completely," I said with a chuckle, gesturing to the computer, "but I've worked a little, too."

"Sounds…boring," she teased, wrinkling her nose at me adorably.

Laughing, I sat forward on the edge of the sofa, resting my elbows on my knees. "Unfortunately, my favorite piano student was otherwise occupied, so I had to entertain myself."

I was rewarded with the sweetest smile, but she pointed to the desk. "What's all this, anyway?"

Standing up, I walked to her. "Some of it is school stuff – payroll, billing, budgets. Some of it is…" My voice trailed off because I wasn't sure she wanted to know exactly how much I'd been looking into the police report.

"My case."

"Yes," I whispered nervously.

She turned to me, reaching up to push the hair from my forehead. "Will you tell me?"

I sighed, swallowing thickly. "Sweetheart, it's possible we'll find out something you may not want to hear," I stated carefully, gauging her reaction, only because my theories were hitting close to home for her now that I'd seen those PI photos.

"You must think there's some connection," she hedged, tears starting to appear. "Does this…have to do with my trust fund?"

My eyebrows shot up. "You know about that?" I asked, but she nodded.

"Yeah, I heard everyone arguing about money more than once. Mom and Phil tried to contest my dad's will," she said with a shrug of her shoulder. "It was after he moved in. I never thought about it, but…"

"I don't know, sweetheart. Money can make people do terrible things, but it may have nothing to do with your parents at all. It could simply be someone that sought revenge against your father due to his job. Believe me, I've tried thinking of it from every angle. I even asked Carlisle for his opinion."

Bella's brow furrowed, but she sat on the bed, folding her legs beneath her. "What'd he say?"

I rolled the desk chair over and sat down, scooting closer to her. "He was able to get his hands on the police file…and the autopsy report." I groaned, sinking my fingers into my hair. "Jesus, Bella… Are you _sure_ you want to hear this stuff?"

"Stop," she whispered, tugging at my hands. "You're gonna pull it all out."

Snorting, I looked up at her. "It would be rather difficult."

"Don't care," she argued. "I like your hair, so leave it where it is."

I grinned, but pulled myself closer. "I need to know you're okay with this topic, sweetheart. I need to know if it gets to be too much."

She took my hands and linked our fingers together. "I promise to tell you if it does," she vowed, and when I nodded, she repeated her question. "What did Dr. Cullen say?"

Picking up our hands, I kissed the back of hers. "Nothing I didn't already know, or that you didn't confirm when you told me your story," I hedged, but gave in when she looked at me exasperatedly. "Okay, fine. From what we can tell from the evidence, two men broke into your home a little after midnight. They seemed to have gone straight to your father's room. Your dad, however, put up a helluva fight," I explained, smiling sadly when she nodded in confirmation. "You ran in on them, and they attacked you. They made their way downstairs, where they took several pieces of electronics, some jewelry that was on the kitchen counter, and some silver and crystal. You said they wore masks, so they must've worn gloves as well, because no prints were identified…"

"And no witnesses. My neighbors weren't home."

"Yes," I whispered, studying her sweet face to make sure she was still good, which she seemed to be. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly because this was where things got…complicated. "We…We looked into your dad's court cases, particularly bad ones or violent ones, and there was only one name that raised a flag."

"Who?" she asked.

"Phil Dwyer. Your dad presided over a case in which he was a character witness."

She paled, but nodded. "I remember Phil talking about that. He was a witness…some baseball, steroid thing. My dad was the judge?"

"Yes, ma'am." I kissed the back of her hand again. "Bella, what else do you remember?"

"I've told you everything about—"

"I know, love, but what I mean is…" I frowned, cupping her face. "It seems that they weren't exactly discerning when it came to discussing things around you. Is there anything that happened before, during, or after that night that seems to stand out to you? Anything, Bella. Something strange happening? Maybe someone's said something to you? Maybe Phil's said something to you?"

"No! Never," she argued, shaking her head. "Phil barely acknowledges me, except occasionally he'll put his foot down about something."

"Like what?"

Her brow wrinkled. "They wanted to skip me a grade at my last school, but he said no. That was one thing. He almost didn't let me come to Masen. He said I wasn't ready."

Nodding, I rubbed my jaw. That was certainly food for thought, but I wanted to hear what else she remembered.

"Okay, what about…familiar smells from that night, or voices?"

Narrowing her eyes at me, she said, "You read that, _MG_."

Cracking up, I kissed her softly once. "Yes, I know. Last Christmas…panic attack. Who was that? You never mentioned names."

"Alec…Alec Brown. He used to work with Phil, but they're still friends," she mumbled, looking away. "In fact, he was at my house the other day…"

I needed to see her face, so I reached up, cupped her chin, and turned her to face me. "He makes you uncomfortable," I surmised.

She floundered for a second. "No…just… His voice, it's deep like…"

"One of your attackers," I finished for her, and she nodded reluctantly. I let go of her hands and rolled across the small space to snatch up the PI report on Phil. I tapped the page, seeing Alec Brown as one of the names we hadn't seen on any police report. The other one was Felix Sumner. "Interesting," I whispered to myself, setting the papers back down.

I rolled back to Bella, who was watching me intently. "Sweetheart, I'm going to ask a few more questions, and then depending on how you answer those questions, I'm going to ask a favor or two."

Her lips quirked up a little. "Okay," she said, dragging out the word.

"Do you still want me to look into this for you, Bella? I mean it. Say the word, and I'm done, but I'm worried as to what we'll find out," I said as honestly as I could.

"More worried than if those men are still out there?" she countered, her hands fidgeting a little in her lap.

"No," I stated, shaking my head. "I meant it, love. No one will touch you."

"Edward, you can't be with me twenty-four-seven."

"Like hell," I growled, shaking my head. "I've been closer than you think the entire time you've been home."

I expected her to be mad, but again, she surprised me with a giggle, asking, "You're stalking my house?"

"Maybe." I grinned, but I leaned forward to kiss her, nuzzling her nose with my own. "I told you, I can't help it." Without moving away, I whispered, "Do you want me to do this?"

"Yes, but…I'm scared, Edward."

"What scares you?"

"I can't…lose you. It seems I just found you, and I…"

I stopped her with a kiss. "You won't."

She reached up, grasping at my neck and my face. "You swear…you're all bulletproof, knife proof…"

Grinning, I said, "_Human_ proof. I swear it, love."

"Right, technically top of the food chain. Got it," she muttered, nodding a little. "Okay."

I snorted, but nodded. "Okay. Next question… Do you trust me?" I asked, but held up my hand to explain. "I might not be able to tell you everything, Bella. I don't always…play fair. But your safety and innocence comes first."

"No, no…I get it," she answered. "I trust you."

I sighed in relief with her reply; I had a feeling that I needed to learn a bit of self-control if I decided to chat with either or both of those men.

"Last question," I said, holding up my finger. "When we get back to school, will you please just set this aside, focus on your work, and let me worry about it? We have time. None of it is going anywhere."

"Yes," she said with a derisive snort, but looked down at her bracelet. "And us?"

My whole being melted with that countered question, and I pulled her to me. "I'm yours, Bella. Nothing can change that. We just have to be careful what some might see. Only for now."

Her smile was a little shy and secretive and a whole lot sexy. "For now."

"That's my girl," I praised her. "Now…favors, please." She waved her hand to urge me on, rolling her eyes a little, but I asked, "Can we please let all of this go for the time being? I'll order you room service, we can watch a movie or something, and you can do me the huge honor of letting me take you home in a few hours."

Her smile was my reward. It was big and happy and beautiful. A sweet giggle escaped her, and she nodded. "Yes. Anything else?"

"Yes," I said, my face sobering quickly. "I want to meet your parents, Bella, because I have every intention of still taking you out day after tomorrow, and they should know."

Her cheeks heated with a blush, but I wasn't so sure it was nerves. It looked like anger, but she nodded.

"Okay," she whispered, but then tilted her head. "You have a story?"

Grinning, I snickered a little. "I do. And you'll never guess who helped me with it."

"Who?"

I laughed a little harder. "Esme." When Bella laughed, I couldn't help but join her. "That woman can be quite devious, so don't let the headmaster act fool you."

"I bet," she said with a giggle. "You'll tell me?"

"Of course," I vowed, but pointed to the nightstand. "Food first, then story. Let's go, love."

**~oOo~**

"You're sure this'll work?" Bella asked, fidgeting with her wool cap as I pulled on my leather jacket.

"Positive," I promised her, taking the cap from her and pulling it onto her head. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Not everyone is as observant as you…and Alice, for that matter."

Bella chuckled, but shrugged a shoulder.

"So, that being said, most accept the lies we give them," I told her, adjusting her scarf and then waiting for her to tug her gloves on. "You're different, Bella, but most humans avoid us. They sense deep down that we're dangerous, so they tend to steer clear of us. When we give some false explanation to something, they merely wave it on, simply not to have to think about it."

"I'm different?" she asked, taking my offered arm as I snatched up my wallet, keys, and hotel room card.

I stopped at the door, my mouth opening and closing, and I tried to think of a way to avoid the mate conversation. It was intense and she'd already dealt with so much.

Looking her way, I asked, "Do I scare you, Bella?" When she shook her head no, I asked another question. "Do my cool skin, strange eye color, and quick movements bother you?"

"No, of course not," she answered, sounding indignant. "Your eyes are beautiful to me. And I never feel the cool, just the warm tingle when you touch me."

Smiling, I kissed her again. "Giselle may have seen you coming, love, but she also said you'd be made for me. You're different because—"

"We belong," she finished for me in a whisper with a sweet smile. "Together, I mean."

My still heart wanted to burst out of my chest when she just…got it. And the fact that not only did that fact not bother her, it seemed to make her incredibly happy.

"Yes," I whispered against the crown of her head.

How I thought I could've avoided the truth with Bella when she first arrived to school was beyond me. She'd changed everything about me, but in turn, she was _talking_. It was a non-stop thing with me. She may have stayed quiet around others, but she was completely comfortable laughing, teasing, _speaking_ with me. And looking back on her first few days as I'd run around the walls of the castle like a rat, I felt like an idiot. My heart hurt as I sent up a silent thank you to Giselle…wherever she was.

"Come, love. Let's get you home."

"Yeah, I've avoided it long enough, huh?"

I led her down the hotel corridor and into the elevator. "You have every right to be angry, Bella. No one can blame you. It might've been easier to deal with had Charlie not known about it."

"Yeah," she whispered.

I guided her to the hotel's garage, opening the door of my car for her to get in.

"Pretty," she said, smiling over at me when I folded myself behind the wheel. "What is it?"

Chuckling, I started the car. "An Audi, but you should see my other one," I told her secretively, giving her a wink, which made her smile and roll her eyes.

Bella stayed quiet the whole way to her street, where she looked over at me, saying, "You really are stalking my house."

Chuckling, I shook my head and parallel parked my car next to her driveway. "Not stalking, Bella. Protecting you. It doesn't help that I can't forget anything, so once I saw your address, it was stuck forever." I tapped my temple so that she'd understand. "In my defense, I never stayed long. Just enough to hear your breathing and heartbeat, and then I'd go. Everyone was asleep."

She smirked as I opened her door. "Where?"

Grinning, I bent down, pointing to the tree by her window. "There."

"Hmm," she hummed, rolling her eyes up to me. "Next time…don't go. And don't hang out in a tree like a bat."

Narrowing my eyes teasingly at her, I asked, "That's a vampire jab, right?"

She giggled, but hugged me. "Thanks for today, Edward."

"I love you," I answered simply, dropping my head to her shoulder and sneaking a kiss to her cheek.

"Love you, too."

"Ready?" I whispered.

She shook her head, but I could see the walls come down around her. It had been so long since they'd been up around me, that it was shocking to witness. Her warm eyes turned dark, angry. Her shoulders set back in some sort of determination, but it was the foul look she gave the manila envelope that broke my heart for her. The realization that not all she knew was the truth must have been a hard pill to swallow, and it seemed that more of that truth was coming. I wasn't sure how much stronger she could be.

Placing a hand at the small of her back, I guided her to her front door steps. Bella started to insert her key, but the door was suddenly yanked open. A woman who looked like an older version of Bella glared angrily down at her.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been? You just leave, stay out all damn day? Isabella…" Renee's voice trailed off as she caught sight of me, but her thoughts and her words matched.

She'd been absolutely ruined that Bella had found out about her affair, but even more worried that Bella had just taken off. What had blown her mother away was that Bella had been so angry that she'd spoken more words just before she left than she had in an entire year. I found it most interesting that she hadn't told her husband _why _Bella had been angry.

All that dissipated at the sight of me. Curiosity took hold as she assessed my clothes, my looks, and my possible age. Then she wanted to know exactly how I knew her daughter.

Smiling, I held out my gloved hand. "Hello, I'm Edward Cullen. You must be Bella's mother, Renee. It's nice to meet you."

"Yes," she answered softly, her eyes glancing between Bella and me.

"I'm afraid it's my fault that she's late," I stated smoothly. "She'd texted me quite upset, so I invited her to get something to eat. I'm afraid we got to talking and lost track of time."

"Talking," Renee repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing. She didn't quite believe me, but she didn't have a chance to ask before two other people were standing behind her.

Both I recognized from Esme's memories. Phil was a larger man, not overweight, but simply a big presence. His expression was a mixture of shock and suspicion at the sight of me. The other person was Chelsea, and her thoughts were warm, kind, and rather humorous, because she thought me to be handsome. She instantly knew that I was important to Bella, due to some conversations they'd had.

She was also the first to break the tension.

"Well, let's get you guys inside out of the cold," she said pleasantly, waving us in. "Come on, I'll take your coats, Bella and…"

"Edward," I told her.

"Nice to meet you, Edward," she said, giving Phil and Renee an amused glance, but she gestured to the former. "This is Phil Dwyer, Bella's stepfather."

"Sir," I greeted with a smile, and I offered him my hand. I wanted to laugh at the extra strength he thought he was using, but I let it go.

"Thank you for seeing our Bella home," he stated, and to the room, it sounded grateful, but in his mind, he was extremely wary because Bella hadn't brought home a friend in years, and never a boy.

"Oh, it was no problem, sir," I replied politely.

His thoughts were muddled, not particularly easy to read, but it might have been because he couldn't quite settle on a specific line of thinking. He was all over the place.

Chelsea's mind was the easiest to listen to, only because she saw more than she let on. With a squeeze to Bella's shoulder, she said, "Go on into the kitchen. I'll make you two some hot chocolate."

Bella and I handed her our coats and followed her to the kitchen. Renee and Phil tagged behind silently. I held out a chair for Bella to sit down, something that wasn't lost on either woman. They found it to be old-fashioned, but extraordinarily polite. I sat next to Bella, smiling at her parents when they sat down across from us.

"So…Edward," Renee started, trying her best to ignore the manila envelope in Bella's hands. "How do you know Bella?"

"Cullen," Chelsea said, smiling my way as she started to make the hot chocolate she'd promised. "Are you any relation to the woman from Bella's school?"

Smiling, I nodded, giving Bella a quick smile, but also an assessing glance. She wasn't looking to her parents, but to Chelsea and then to me. I had a funny feeling that, had Phil and Renee not been in the room, she'd most likely have spoken aloud.

"Actually, yes, ma'am," I replied with a nod. "Esme's my aunt. She and my uncle, Carlisle, were kind enough to take care of me after the death of my parents. I live in Hunter's Lake. That's where I met Bella." I said, gesturing to my girl.

She was smirking, but stayed silent.

"Oh, you poor thing," Chelsea cooed, frowning at the thought of me losing both parents, but she could see what had probably brought Bella and me together.

"How old are you, Edward?" Phil asked, narrowing his eyes at me. "Are you in class with Bella?"

"No, sir," I answered. "I just recently turned nineteen. I'm out of school, but taking a year or so before I consider college. I'm helping my aunt and uncle out at the school a little before my trust fund is released. Just little odd jobs here and there. I'm good with numbers, so she puts me to work in the accounting office more than anywhere."

My eyes shot to Phil when the words _trust fund_ met his ears, and I had all the answers I needed. To an outsider – and Chelsea, too – the way Phil looked at Bella was almost creepy, predatory. But he didn't see her sexually. He saw her as a cash cow, a walking bank account. He made okay money writing his sports articles online, but he knew the majority of his comfortable living was due to the monthly paycheck his wife received. And it was all coming to an end as soon as Bella turned eighteen in approximately nine months.

When Bella became a legal adult, she'd be one of the richest women in Boston, and my girl couldn't have cared less, which made Phil's reaction a little humorous to me. What wasn't funny was that he'd been biding his time, simply waiting to step in on behalf of her mental health. Under the table, my hand balled up into a fist, but I controlled my temper.

"That's nice of you," Renee said, bringing me back to the conversation, "to help your aunt and uncle."

"Oh, it's the least I could do. They've been there for me more times than I can count," I replied honestly. "Which is why I'm in Boston," I continued before anyone could voice the question. "Another favor to Aunt Esme." I chuckled, shaking my head. "She and my uncle are renovating an apartment not far from here, so I'm overseeing the last bit of it for her. You know, the final walk-through and stuff."

Chelsea set a steaming mug down in front of me and then Bella, saying, "Then I'm glad Bella has a friend from school nearby."

"Me, too," I agreed with a nod, smiling at Bella. "I was going stir-crazy by myself."

Bella giggled, shaking her head a little. She brought the cup to her lips, sipping the warm drink.

Chelsea could see the attraction instantly. And she loved it. She thought we made a sweet, beautiful couple. Renee thought my manners were perfect, but she, too, liked the way I looked at Bella. However, both wanted to know just how much Bella "talked" to me.

Phil, however, noted the change in Bella, her carefree chuckle, and the way she looked at me. He didn't like it, and he already hated me, but he said nothing.

"Oh, which reminds me," I gasped, turning to Bella. "Are you still free New Year's Eve? Esme gave me tickets to a party downtown," I said smoothly. "Please don't make me go alone."

Bella grinned, but shocked everyone by saying, "Yes."

"New Year's…" Renee hedged. "That's kinda late, Bella."

Placing a hand on my chest, I vowed, "I promise to have her home just a little past midnight."

"I don't know. I'm not sure you're ready for dating, Bells," Phil started, but I fought the urge to punch him in the face, not because he didn't like me – that didn't matter to me whatsoever – but the sneer and flinch Bella gave him at the sound of that nickname made my hackles raise.

I didn't have to say a word. Both women came to Bella's rescue, and it couldn't have been planned better.

"Oh, stop, Phil," Renee said with a chuckle and an eye roll. "She's seventeen, most certainly old enough. And it's about time."

"I think a party sounds much more fun than watching that ball drop on TV," Chelsea added, giving Bella a wink.

He raised his hands in surrender, but he wasn't picking a fight. What bothered him was that if Bella was dating, then she was getting better. If she was getting better, then his chances of fighting her trust fund were slowly ebbing away. That thought caused him to stand up and give a fake smile and a wave.

"Okay, I can see I'm outnumbered here." He chuckled a little. "Edward, thank you again for seeing Bella home."

I smiled, though inside, I was seething. I didn't know, simply because I couldn't see it cross his mind, whether he was involved with the attack on Bella and Charlie, but I could damn well see that he had his sights on Bella's money. That _wasn't _going to happen. I wouldn't allow it, not because Bella cared, but because he didn't deserve a damn thing from her. I'd follow Charlie Swan's wishes to the very end if I had to.

"Anytime, sir." Once he'd left the room, I turned to Bella. "I should be going. Text me later?"

She nodded, but stood up, and I followed her to the front door. She opened it, shivering against the cold, but smiled up at me.

"Thank you," she whispered, but then narrowed her eyes. "You okay?"

"Mmhm," I hummed, leaning in to kiss her forehead and knowing I'd need to tell her what I'd heard, but it wouldn't be right there, where we could be interrupted. "Yes, ma'am. I'll pick you up around seven, okay? Dress warmly."

She giggled and nodded again, then gasped and grabbed my arm. "Wait," she hissed, holding up a finger. She ran to the Christmas tree where there was one last gift. Picking it up, she rushed back to me.

"Bella, you… I said I didn't need anything," I whispered to her, taking the wide, thin package from her.

It was wrapped in shiny blue and silver, but her silent nudge and sweet dark eyes made me tear the pretty paper right off. The scent of new leather hit me first. It was a black binder, but it was my initials engraved on a gold plaque at the bottom that made me smile.

_EAMC_

"Look," she whispered, opening the binder and tapping the paper inside, which was personalized sheet music. "Now you can rewrite your mom's song. Or write a new one."

I was speechless for a moment, but also well aware we were on the other side of the wall from the kitchen. I wanted to kiss her until she was breathless.

Leaning to her, I kissed her forehead instead. "Thank you, sweetheart. It's beautiful."

She grinned, but glanced over her shoulder at the sounds of running water in the kitchen, but she turned back to me. "Don't stalk, Edward. Sneak in if you need."

Shooting her a wink, I twirled my keys in my hand. "We'll see, love."

**~oOo~**

I leaned against the tree across the street from Bella's home, listening as the house was fairly quiet. I'd left just about an hour before, but walked back to simply listen. The house had been pretty tense for the last few minutes that I'd been standing there in the shadows.

Renee had tried repeatedly to get Bella to talk, about _anything_ – me, the upcoming date, but specifically, the affair with Phil prior to Charlie's death. Bella, however, had shut down the very second I'd left the house. No one could get her to say a word. Phil was pacing inside the library, a crystal glass – which he'd refilled several times since I'd been back – in his hand. The actions were so similar to my own father that I couldn't help but worry. Phil didn't seem like a violent man, but I didn't trust him. And whether Bella could admit it or not, she didn't trust him any farther than she could throw him – a thought that made me smile. She just needed to say the word; _I'd_ throw him wherever she wanted me to.

I glanced down at my watch after everyone but Phil went to bed. I wasn't leaving my spot in the shadows until I knew Bella could be guarded. But I also had things to do before the sun came up. Shifting on my feet a little, I grew antsy. Part of me wanted to scale the side of the house, crawl through Bella's window, and wrap my girl up in the safety of my arms while she slept. The other side of me needed to hunt – not to feed, but to find the answers to some very nasty questions.

To calm myself, center myself, I closed my eyes and smiled. Even from where I was standing, Bella's heartbeat called to me. I couldn't smell her, but I could hear the distinct_ thump-thump-thump_ of her heart, despite the surrounding neighborhood filled with humans. Another twenty-seven minutes passed by, allowing me to focus on the task I'd attempt later.

A snap of a twig, the crunch of footsteps in snow made me tense, but I knew it was done on purpose. Jacob was as silent as a vampire when he needed to be, but I smirked when I could smell him approach, so I turned to face him.

"Thank you for this," I sighed sincerely.

"I don't know why you ask. You know I'm in." His easy, slow smile crept up his face as he eyed the house across the street from the park. "So…what's the deal, Edward?"

He stood tall and strong beside me, his heat radiating off him as he faced the house.

"I need her safe, Jake. Please," I begged him. "That's all I'm asking. See the man downstairs?"

"The stepdad, right? You think he's up to something?"

"Yeah, Phil… And I don't know if he had anything to do with the night Bella was attacked, though I aim to find out, but he's definitely up to no good concerning her trust fund," I told him.

Jacob sneered, his head spinning to face me. "And just how is he planning to get that shit accomplished?"

Smiling ruefully, I glared at the man in question through the windows as he poured another inch or two of caramel-colored liquid into his glass. "He was banking on Bella's…issues. He was thinking Masen Academy wouldn't work out, that she'd fail _and_ stay silent. He also was banking on her staying alone. He knew she didn't have friends at her old school. If she's still suffering, still quiet, and there's no one to back her up, he could have her hospitalized." I turned to face Jacob fully. "There's a clause in the trust fund paperwork that says if Bella is incapacitated in any way, her guardians can take control of her money."

"But it's not about the money."

"Hell no, it's not about the money! It's the principle of the damn thing. Her father wanted her to have it, and by God, I'm gonna make sure she gets it…if only to keep it from _that man_." I pointed across the street.

"So why panic now?" Jacob asked, glaring at Phil with disdain.

I laughed humorlessly. "Bella now has a boyfriend, she's doing incredibly well at school, and she looks better than she has in years, according to him, and his plan is flying out the damn window."

Jake chuckled. "Didn't like you, huh?"

"No, not at all. Though the mom and housekeeper _loved me_." I grinned at his soft laugh. "Just…make sure he either passes out or goes to bed. But he needs to stay away from _that room_ up there," I instructed, pointing to the second floor window on the corner. "I don't think he'll try anything with both her mother and the housekeeper in the house, but I don't trust him either way."

"Sure, sure," he agreed, stepping back into the shadows. "Where are you goin'?"

"I'm gonna go ask a guy or two some questions," I stated with an evil smirk.

"Don't kill anyone. My mom'll be pissed," he taunted. "You're lucky she saw this and sent me on my way. She told me to tell you the death cards aren't for tonight."

Growling low, I nodded. "Fair enough."

He shifted slowly, quietly, into his wolf form, settling down onto his haunches beneath the brush. If he was seen, he could escape farther into the park, which would leave the witness thinking they'd simply seen a large stray dog.

_Yo, Edward!_ Jake thought to me, tilting his large head. _Want me to follow his ass if he leaves in the morning?_

"Yeah, that'd be helpful. Keep me posted," I told him, starting for the sidewalk. "And thanks again."

_Anything, Edward. You know __that._

I waved over my shoulder, turning the corner of the street at a human run. I'd changed clothes, so at first glance, I looked like a jogger – a poorly dressed jogger in mostly black. About half an hour later, the surrounding neighborhood had changed from extremely wealthy to quite the opposite.

I'd called Jenks on my way back to the hotel from Bella's. He'd promised me he'd contact the private investigator, Harry Clearwater, for me, but he also took a minute to look up some information concerning the two men, Alec Brown and Felix Sumner. Sumner lived closer and had done some jail time for petty theft and some minor drug charges. As far as Jenks could tell, Sumner had no association with Phil, but he had plenty with Alec Brown. Felix Sumner was my first stop.

Stopping a few houses down from the one I needed, I pulled the hood up on my sweatshirt. My eyes scanned my surroundings, seeing that the rundown working-class neighborhood was pretty quiet, except for an arguing couple four houses down, a blaring TV in the house next to me, and several barking dogs. The latter was due to my presence, but the humans didn't know that.

I darted between two houses, leaping short chain-link fences. I scared a large pitbull that was chained to a tree, but landed silently in Sumner's yard. No lights came on, the snow softened my steps even more, and I popped open the back door with little to no sound. Smiling, I couldn't have imagined a better scenario than the one laid out before me. Felix Sumner was passed out on his sofa, beer bottles covering his beat-up coffee table. He reeked of sweat, motor oil, marijuana, and beer. He was completely wasted.

Poking about his house for a few minutes, I made sure he was alone. The place was disgusting, filthy, and there was hardly any food in his fridge. Sniffing once to prepare myself, I gently stepped back into the living room. Glancing around one time, I finally reached down, grasped Sumner's shirt, and tossed him across the room.

He hit the wall with a sputter and a string of curses and then scrambled up to his knees.

"Don't move," I ordered softly, toying with the knife I found on the coffee table. I didn't need it, but he didn't know that. "The next time I throw you, it'll be in out of a moving car on the highway."

"Wh-Who the fuck are you?" he asked with slightly slurred speech. His mind was reeling with questions of whom he may have pissed off, whom he owed money to, and some girl who had a brother looking for him.

I reached inside the front pouch of my hoodie and pulled out a stack of hundred dollar bills. "I'm a guy that's gonna ask you some questions. It may prove beneficial for you to answer them truthfully. And believe me, I'll know if you're lying. Lie to me, and no one will find you in this house for days, but they'll find parts of you in every single room."

He sat back against the wall, still a touch inebriated and now extremely tired, not to mention scared. "What'choo wanna know, asshole?"

"What do you know about Phil Dwyer?" I asked, slowly setting a bill down onto the coffee table, internally smirking when his eyes followed the movement.

"Don't know him."

"Hmm, that's not quite true, is it?" I countered, reaching for the hundred to take it back.

"Wait! I know _of_ the guy, okay? Sports writer. Lives in a posh neighborhood."

I left the bill, reaching for another one. "How do you know him?"

"A friend…he knows him. Used to work with him."

"Alec Brown."

"Yeah, yeah…that's him," he said, his eyes lighting up when a second hundred was added to the table. "Alec buys his junk from me. He likes the expensive hydroponic weed, the strong shit."

"Where can I find him?" I asked, holding up another hundred.

"Um…I just saw him. He needed a bag, 'cause he said he was going outta town."

"What do you _really_ know about Alec Brown?" I asked, my eyes narrowing behind the shadow of my hood.

"Nasty fucker. Bad temper. But he's a whiny little bitch, too. Does anything Dwyer orders. They go way back…somethin' about baseball. Brown had a connection to steroids."

"Oh, of course he did," I muttered to myself, setting the bill down. "What do you know about Charlie Swan?"

The man paled, started to shake his head. His mind went everywhere, and I caught brief flashes of things.

"Nothin', man. I don't know nothin'!"

I snatched up a beer bottle, smashed the lower half of it on the side of the coffee table, and was instantly on him. I moved so quickly, he had no chance to see me, nor could he fight me when I was behind him, the sharp points of brown glass now aimed at his throat.

"That…was a _lie_," I growled low in his ear. "Care to rethink that answer, Felix?"

"They'll kill me, they'll kill me…" he chanted, now breaking out into a cold sweat.

"_I'll_ kill you, but if you answer me honestly, you'll have enough money to hide out somewhere. Maybe even start over somewhere…maybe get your mother a better place… She still in Shady Pines retirement facility? Rethink the fucking question, Sumner!" I snarled, dragging the point across his throat, much like the scar Bella had.

The sweet tinge of blood hit the air when I lightly nicked his skin, but I fought my instinct to finish the disgusting slug off. I swallowed back the venom with a burning throat, knowing my eyes blackened with thirst.

"Okay, okay, okay, okay…" he pleaded, his eyes squeezing closed, and he shook in my grasp. If I held him with any more force, I'd break his neck. "Swan was a judge. Brown needed him to either take a bribe or go away. He didn't do either. From what I heard, the old man couldn't be scared so easy, ya know?"

"Keep going."

"A lot of men went to jail over some baseball drug ring. It wasn't that they were pumpin' 'roids. It was that they were getting them from the streets. Alec was pissed when a bunch of his boys did time. I…I heard a rumor they were gonna take the old man out. I don't know…I wasn't there. I was in county for a B&E."

Nodding slightly, I released him a little to think a second. Shoving him away from me, I moved back to the sofa, pulling out several hundreds and holding them up.

"Look, man, I'm just a fucking petty dealer. I don't know nothin' about this shit!" he begged, though his mind was dying to see my face.

"I know," I told him. "And you're going to stay ignorant. Spill a word about this conversation to Brown before I find him, and I'll come back, tear you apart, and then head over to Shady Pines and do the same to your mother."

"Shit, shit…no, man…don't. She never hurt nobody!"

"Then answer a few more questions, and I'll double what you've already earned," I stated, shaking the money. When he nodded at the same time he scrubbed his face, I kept going. "When does Brown come back to Boston?"

"Coupla weeks. Went to Florida with his girl."

"Good. And who would he have gotten to do his dirty work?" I asked him, toying with the broken bottle again.

"Damn, I don't know…um, maybe his brother? Demetri? They're both fucking crazy!" Felix said. A few bar fights over girls came to his mind, along with a girl with a black eye.

"Good to know," I said softly, nodding a little. I reached down, snatched up all the money and held it up. "There's fifteen hundred here. Get the hell out of town. Take your mom, or don't. I don't care, but if Brown knows about this conversation when I finally catch up to him, I will find you, and I will end you. Are we clear?"

He nodded, flinching a little when I threw the money at him. I stood up and made for the door I'd broken into, but he yelled, "Aw, man…who the fuck are you!?"

I stopped, keeping my back to him. Who the hell was I? My sweet, beautiful girl's face came to mind, and I smiled, knowing I was hers. That's really all that mattered, but everything I was about to do was for her. All of it. Whether I killed Dwyer or Brown or simply handed them over to the authorities. I wasn't sure which I would do just yet. My innocent, sweet girl needed justice. But most importantly, my Bella needed to feel safe.

Giving him one last glance over my shoulder, I said, "I'm no one. I'm a ghost. Make the right decisions, Felix, or I'll be back. And I promise you…you won't see me coming."

**~oooOOOooo~**

**A/N… Edward's questioning was something I saw a LONG time before I even started writing this. And now you know where Phil stands. Renee…well, you'll hear more from her. And Chelsea. Next up is New Year's Eve. ;)**

**No real questions this time around, just your venom spewed at Phil more than anything. LOL Although some of you were wondering if Edward was hanging around the house. Yes and no. Not to the point of listening to every word. He'd merely check on Bella. **

**Again, thank you so much for all the reviews, recs, and love. I'll see you guys again on Sunday for the next chapter. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)**


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